The Giants we Face
by ALightInMe
Summary: In the setting of Halloween: Curse of Michael Myers, Tommy Doyle has been waiting, watching the old Strode house. He's set in his ways and keeps to himself, but he's been noticed by a very curious, Kara Strode.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything or anyone affiliated with the Halloween movies.

 **Author's Note:** I'm writing this because of Paul Rudd and his role in Halloween: Curse of Michael Myers. There, I said it.

 **Author's Note #2:** This will be a multi-chapter fic.

…

He really has no patience for caring what people think or say about him. He knows they think and say plenty. He might too, if his name hadn't been Tommy Doyle; one of the only people to survive that night; the night Michael Myers decided to come home and finish what he started.

He guesses he might be warped with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Disturbed even. He cares only when he's sleeping fretfully. But awake he has no time for that. When he's awake he's working, he's planning, doing his research, watching out of his window, watching particularly the old Strode's house through his telescope, knowing that that house is beckoning for the child that once lived there, evolved into a killer there. Tommy paces in his room, headphones on, listening to radio news. Because hey, Michael didn't get the memo that you can't go home again, why would he get the memo now?

Tommy will not be caught off guard like the eight year old child he once was. He hasn't been a child since that night.

His social skills are lacking. He cares not. Neither does his socially retarded landlord. Neither bother with the other's business, there's no awkward need for crappy small talk. It's a perfect deal really. He pays her, he lives there, and they like it that way. There's an understanding there. He checks in on her a couple of times a day, never saying anything, just keeping an eye out for her. And as spacey as she seems, they both know she knows.

The female gender in town talks, pointing out all of the weirdness that is Tommy Doyle, but most, if admitted, think there is something dangerous, yet harmless, and odd, yet interesting about him. And if they were honest, he's not too hard on the eyes either. But usually being stared at by him in that silent, stalker-ish way, usually makes them think better of pursuing him.

There's something twisted about him, he thinks, because to intimidate people the way he does seems a little too familiar. Once he's stared at a person long enough to be noticed and see that interested look in their eye turn when their senses are heightened and are subconsciously warning them to stay their distance, he gets a feeling that's not quite amused, and not quite pleasured, but closer to those things than he'd like to admit to himself. Because, after all, he knows that feeling of looking at someone and having the hair on the back of your neck stand up on end. He knows what it is to look at someone and just KNOW that something with this person isn't quite right.

To assume the traits of someone that tries to kill you doesn't necessarily mean you're going to go on your own massacre, it has more to do with defense mechanisms, and that's as deep as Tommy will get into it.

He peeks through his telescope toward the Strode house, a family has recently moved into it. It worries him; almost gives him the feeling that by bringing life back into the once abandoned house will wake something back up in Michael and beckon him home.

Tommy holds the cross around his neck, he's not particularly devout to church, but praying for your life, and having it spared gives you a sense that there's something up there that can and will protect you. Catholicism is a family religion in his bloodline, but he practices in the safety of his room, the way he studies, researches, listens, and yes, watches the town below from his second story window, with a protective eye, ready and willing, to fight when the time calls for it.

He'd be lying if he said that the new woman next door hadn't caught his interest, along with the whole wholesome family dynamic they have going on, all except for the man who looks to be her father. The man has woke him up more than once, yelling at the top of his lungs, threats, to the town's children, that are trying to get a laugh by posting cardboard cut outs of Michael Myers and staking them in his front yard. The man often looks sullen and red faced, and one look through his telescope is all it takes to see how a room changes when he enters it.

This particular morning was one of those mornings he woke him up belligerently screaming at the sound of laughing children. So the man was already on a tangent, bulking his way into his house and no doubt, quite noisily slamming the front door. It was after Tommy's shower and getting dressed that he started hearing the shouting coming from the inside of the house next door. And Tommy's curiosity got the best of him. And he wishes it hadn't because as soon as he focused the lens on the right room, the kitchen den, he saw that hulk of a man slap Kara right across the face.

Tommy never considered himself a violent man, always planned to be if Haddonfield's favorite killer ever came back, but it was everything he had in him to keep himself from marching next door and bursting right in and letting loose on the man that obviously doesn't know how to keep his hands off women.

As Tommy continued watching, something happened that surprised him more than the initial slap. What looks to be Kara's son, on account of how she seems to be his main caretaker, is standing with a knife held right at the tyrant's gut. The man looks down and no doubt nearly wets himself, and shortly after, Kara talks the knife out of her little boy's hand.

As soon as he's sure that the man of the house isn't going to fly in an even more violent rage, Tommy lets go of the telescope, his thoughts running a thousand to nothing. If it weren't for encountering evil at the age of eight, he wouldn't believe in a lot of the things that he's studied to happen on a spiritual level; like, a house containing spirits of recent lived there souls. But seeing that little boy holding that knife just now seemed a little too familiar to Tommy. Yet, on the other hand, if he had a mother like Kara, he might find the closest thing to use as a weapon and go at an abusive man like he did as well.

And that brings about a thought, and Tommy really, really doesn't want to go there, but is that what happened to Michael? An abusive household? Is that what caused him to take a knife to his family?

He's done his homework on what makes Michael, well, Michael. And he knows that he has a curse on him, but as far as home life goes, Tommy guesses anything is possible. Michael's parents might have even been practicing black magic of their own which ultimately resulted in their son being subjected to such a community of darkness. Makes sense. They could have been suckered into doing some kind of ritual that was actually something else entirely; thus, creating the cursed shadow… Michael.

Tommy would think that he's reaching with his thoughts, but after experiencing what he's experienced, he knows not to discount any kind of crazy possibility. Lord knows he's had a lot of time to think of any and every kind of possibility. Yet, he knows that coming up against the shadow is a completely different story. All of the knowledge in the world can make you think you're somewhat prepared, but the actual moment you know you're caught up in the nightmare itself, any knowledge that could be attained doesn't actually pertain. At least, not any anyway that Tommy can figure out yet.

But he will. He has to. He has to, to protect Haddonfield, to protect himself. And he fears, that he will have to protect those in the house next door; like Kara and her family. And yes, even her tyrant of a father. Mostly them, because that's more than likely the first place Michael will return to.

Tommy's hunched shoulders and wide staring eyes are often mistaken for trouble, but he doubts that anyone is as serious about helping this town as he is. And he will. He didn't survive once in vain. He tries to look at that one Halloween night when he was eight years old as a preparation for the next round.

Tommy might be misunderstood, but he's ready; or at least, as ready as he'll ever be.

…

 **Author's Note # 3:** Okay, so let me know if it's worth continuing.


	2. Chapter 2

Kara's POV…

Beth said that Tommy Doyle is harmless. I didn't tell her while we were in conversation that I have my doubts about that. I've caught him more than a few times with his telescope aimed right at our house and he doesn't even have the decency to hide when I catch him looking into my room. I'd know he's looking directly into my bedroom because just last night when I went to my window and looked straight at him, he took his eye away from the telescope and straightened up, looking right back at me.

The man makes my blood run cold. Someone with that kind of gaw obviously has no sense of what's indecent and what isn't. The least he could do is act embarrassed when I catch him, but all I see is a semi-blank semi-curious face.

I've never been one to just ignore things like that, especially with my son living in this very house as well. His safety and wellbeing is the most important thing to me I can think of. If we're going to be living in this house we need to know we're safe. I don't want to have to worry about the strange man next door while my son is playing outside. So I kept asking around, and Tim got a little curious himself. He had better luck at retrieving things, more details about the odd man next door. He's always been better at things of a gossip nature than I am.

"The guy next door? He's certifiable. A serial killer tried to kill him and his babysitter on Halloween when he was just a kid," Tim said with about as much compassion as a doorknob.

"Wait- wasn't that… it sounds like…" I wondered aloud.

"That Michael Myers murder spree thing? Yeah."

"Sure hits close to home. That was the biggest terror this town has ever known. They're still talking about it."

Tim bit into his peanut butter sandwich and replied with his mouthful, "Yeah. Dad just got through knocking down another Michael Myers sign in the front of the yard this morning. It was hilarious, seeing him turn thirteen shades of purple like he does."

I refrained from saying out loud that our father was the real terror in this town. The last thing I wanted to do was get Tim started.

Evert since that conversation with my brother I haven't been able to keep the empathy from seeping in little by little for the disturbed man next door. Maybe Beth was right, maybe he really was just lonely. But harmless? Well I'm just going to have to see for myself.

It's four days until Halloween and everything here at the house is comfortably quiet. I just tucked Danny into bed and Dad has drunk himself to sleep in his recliner. Tim is somewhere with Beth and Mom looks like she's about to turn in.

I grab my sweater and meet Mom as she's coming out of the kitchen. "Mom, I need to go somewhere for a little while. Do you think you can keep an eye out on Danny while I'm gone?"

"Of course, dear. But where are you going out this late?"

I debate whether or not to lie, but seeing as how I'm just walking across the lawn, I can't really get away with it so, "I'm just going next door."

Mom pushes her glasses back up onto her nose and looks up at me with concern, "Oh Kara, leave it to you to want to save everyone."

I frown. Mom may be the world's sweetest doormat for my father, but she's definitely a woman of discernment. "You've heard about him?" 

"Oh yes, the women at church filled me in. The poor dear. What happened to him was just awful. He's quite strange. But harmless, really."

I lay a hand on Mom's cheek and smile in amusement. "We'll see. That's what I'm about to find out."

Walking across the lawn, with my sweater wrapped snug around me, the chill in the air makes me want to turn back. By the time I make it to the foot of the front steps, Tommy Doyle already has the door open and he's standing as still as a board, staring out at me, watching me. It makes me stop dead in my tracks. I have no idea when he noticed me making my way over to his house, or wow. We really need to get thicker curtains in our home. He's not even shy about watching our every move through that telescope; playing out like a movie for his prying eyes, apparently. That's the only way he could have been expecting me.

He's not moving, not even speaking. I don't know why I expected a smile in greeting but there's nothing warm about his expression and it's making me seriously regret my decision to come for a visit. However, turning back now would certainly be rude, if not a whole lot embarrassing.

Squaring my shoulders, I slowly make my led weight feet bring me up the steps and onto the porch. "You were expecting me?"

"Yes," he answers, unapologetically.

"May I come in?" I ask, trying for brave and not exactly selling it.

"Why?" he asks, not at all friendly.

"Honestly, I've noticed you watching our home."

"Watching you, you mean," he says dryly.

I swallow hard at that, and clear my suddenly dry throat. "Yes, that too."

"And you want to know why."

"Well, I was prepared to give you the being a good neighbor trying to get to know her neighbors speech, but since you seem to like to get to the point, then yes."

He nods once and opens to the door wider, "Come in."

I follow him through the house and we pass the living room where the woman Beth calls Ms. B is sitting, unmoving in her rocking chair, staring at the television.

"Hey Ms. Blankenship," Tommy calls without even looking to see if she responds, but it's just as well, because she doesn't even turn to see who the other sound of footprints belong to.

Tommy leads me up the stairs into his room. Looking around it's just exactly the kind of thing I pictured from the disturbed man next door. It's all too fitting to see the walls covered in cut out newspaper articles and strange symbols I've never seen before. There's a huge stereo system with headphones attached and laying on top. There's an ashtray sitting on a desk full of cigarette butts and a computer on the same desk. What makes my stomach twist is to see that dreaded telescope in the same position that it's in every night, facing my house.

"Go ahead, look through the scope. It's what you're here for, isn't it?" he asks.

I'm not sure why, but Tommy Doyle's attitude makes me feel snarky. "Actually, I'm more curious about your walls at the moment."

Tommy smirks, I didn't even know his face was capable of any expression. He holds out his hands, gesturing toward his walls, "Please, feel free."

As long as he insists. I ignore his sarcasm and walk over to the wall across from me, the one with a newspaper cut-out that reads in big bold letters "TOMMY DOYLE SURVIVES BABYSITTER BLOODBATH" and I read the article. It's hard to focus on the details with Tommy standing and staring at the back of my head from the middle of his room. But what I take from it is even worse than I'd even heard. A serial killer by the name that I had heard around town, Michael Myers, had murdered his own sister and her boyfriend when he was just a child. He escaped the institution where he was being held and came back to Haddonfield in search of his surviving sister, to finish what he started. She was the one that had been babysitting Tommy and a girl named Lindsey that Halloween night. All three escaped but not Lourie's friends. They had all been murdered.

I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment to gather my strength to look at the article next to it and now that I have, I wish I hadn't. There in black in white is a newspaper article taped to the wall of a little boy and a little girl, sitting in the back of an ambulance, covered in blankets, huddled up with looks of sheer terror on their crying faces. And being a mother, I can't help the buildup of tears threatening to fall from my eyes. But somehow it seems extremely hypocritical to judge the man next door and go soft in his room.

As soon as I'm confident that I can hold my composure, I turn around. Tommy has not moved. "I had to know for myself," I whisper.

He shrugs. "Okay."

"Okay?" I ask. "Okay?" Aren't you going to offer an explanation of why you are living up to your name?"

Slowly, a grin spreads across his face, and it's unsettling, an attractive glimpse of what could have been if Tommy had not been the boy in the newspaper articles. "Tell me you're not using something as lame as a Peeping Tom reference."

"Okay, as long as you tell me you're not changing the subject," I counteract with and his grin vanishes.

"Kara, that is your name, isn't it?" he asks. "I only hear it when your father is yelling it, next door, but it does sound kind of muffled."

I blanch, how rude was I? Coming over here demanding to know someone and not even introducing myself. "Yes, Kara, Kara-St-"

"Strode, that part I know," he interrupts, and something about it sounds pointed. "Kara, do you know what house you're living in?"

"You mean, as in who used to own it?"

"Yeah."

"I wasn't around when my parents bought it. In fact, we're new to this town. I was living a few hours away with my, well- with my son's father. When my parents bought the house, it was our luck because we needed to get awa- leave. And they fortunately got a really good deal on the huge house next door and it had an extra bedroom." At this point I was rambling because I had this nagging feeling that what Tommy was about to disclose to me was something I really didn't want to hear.

He nods, and looks around his room for a moment, then finally lands his piercing green eyes on mine again. "Did you ever wonder- did they ever wonder why they got such a good deal on such a big house?"

I nodded, "They were told that it had been on the market for so long that the price had nowhere to go but down."

"Yes," he says, "but no one ever thought to ask why no one wanted to buy it before now?"

I hold up a hand to stop him. "Do I really want to know?"

"No. But you need to."

All I can do is stand here, wishing I had never come, but my feet aren't moving to get me out of here like I want them to.

"Kara. That house you're living in is the old Myers house," he says with more emotion in his eyes than I've seen all night.

Just like that, the wind is knocked right out of me. My mind automatically goes to the fact that there was nothing in the article about Michael Myers NOT surviving.

The room begins to spin and I drop into Tommy's desk chair. He makes no movement that I know of but somehow I think he understands. "Wh- where is h-"

"No one knows. He disappeared."

I hold my face in my hands a moment and suddenly it dawns on me. I drop my hands to my lap and look over at his telescope. I shakily stand back up and look out his window to my house, softly caressing the scope. ""You've been not watching us per say, but looking to see-"

"When he comes back," he finishes with.

"Don't you mean _if_?"

"No," he answers eerily calm.

Suddenly upset, I turn around. "Why are you telling me all of this?"

"Why are you here?" he asks in form of an answer.

Now the tears are rolling down my cheeks and I swipe them away angrily. "My son and I- we have nowhere else to go! It's the only place my ex won't come after us. There's only one thing he fears, and that's my father. It's the only thing that keeps my son safe."

"What's keeping your son safe from your father?" he asks as a reprimand.

"How dare you!" I say raising my voice.

"I have no sympathy for abusive men, as you can imagine. But if out of your ex and your father you're picking the lesser of the two evils, then so be it," he says and then slowly he takes a step closer, "but personally, for more reasons than one, I'd like very much for you and your son to be as far away from Haddonfield as fast as you two possibly can."

I don't know what's coming over me, but the frustration over speaking to someone so mechanical, so without feeling is getting to me. "Oh? Would one of those reasons be because I decided to step over the invisible line you've drawn? The one you've drawn to keep people at a distance so that you won't have to socialize with anyone?"

"That's one of the reasons, yes," he says unashamed.

Now I think I've really lost it, because hysterical bubbles of laughter are bursting out of my mouth. "You have absolutely no idea how to interact with people do you? It's so much easier seeing people through the lens of a telescope than being face to face with them, isn't it?"

"Yes."

I laugh again. "Well Tommy, it's your unlucky day, because here I am!"

"Do you want to sit on my roof?" he asks and it's such a break in the conversation that it throws me off for a second.

"What?"

"I need a smoke. Come if you want. If not, goodnight."

"Do you want me to stay?" I ask.

He tilts his head and chews on that for a second and all he comes up with is, "I don't know."

I don't have any experience dealing with extreme introverts but something tells me that I'm going about this the wrong way. "Tommy, if you want to go out on your roof and smoke, then fine. But if you don't hate the idea of me coming out on the roof with you, just take another cigarette out and lay it on your desk."

His jaw goes slack and man it feels good to shock the unemotional man. But he follows it with a shrug that looks more like he's rolling the unwanted tension off of his shoulders. I turn back around to face the window to give his decision making some privacy and I hear his other window slide open and him crawling through it scuffing his boots on the roof shingles.

I don't hear the window shut behind him so I chance looking around at the desk and right there are not one cigarettes, but two.

I grab them both and crawl out onto the roof to sit beside an already smoking Tommy Doyle. Without looking at me he slides to me his lighter. I shake my head and hand him his cigarettes back, careful not to touch his fingers. "I don't smoke; just wanted to see if you were in a sharing mood." And then without being able to help it, I laugh. That seems to be happening a lot.

Looking in depth at my parent's house, he asks, "What?"

"If anyone told me I would be sitting on a roof with the hermit next door, I would have laughed."

He huffs out a non-committal laugh, "A hermit. Sure. I guess it looks that way."

"It issss that way, Tommy."

"If you say so."

"Okay, I'll bite, what kind of person do you consider yourself?"

I feel him look at me then and it draws my eyes to his. "I'm not baiting you. I don't really give much thought as to what kind of guy I am. Is that what kind of guys you're used to? Guys that sit around and think about themselves a lot?"

"Okay, Tommy, I hit a nerve, obviously."

"You hit a nerve by moving into that house."

A cold shiver runs up my spine and lifts the hair on the back of my neck. "Be as unpleasant as you want, Tommy. But I bet you two cigarettes that you want me here."

"Yeah. But I wish you weren't just as much."

We sit in silence on that for a moment and the inevitable question has got to be asked and it takes all of my nerve to ask it. "Do you really think he will come back? And if you do, why are you so sure this is where he's coming?"

"Yes. It's where he came before. He comes home. I've studied on what makes him like he is, and I'm sure you saw the symbols on my walls, they have to do with a curse that's been put on him that makes him make a blood sacrifice out of each one of his family members. It also explains his superhuman strength."

"Superhuman strength. Do you even hear yourself?" I ask.

He looks at me serious as a heart attack. "I guess you would have had to be there to understand."

"Okay, let's say for a moment that it didn't just look that way to a child's mind, do you know how to stop it-him? I mean?"

"Yes."

I want to believe him, so much do I want to believe him. "How?"

"I have to break the curse. And try to keep as many people as possible, safe in the process."

"YOU have to?! What makes you think YOU can keep people safe?"

"I've outlived him before and I was just a child. Now I'm a man, I know what he's after, and there are ways to break curses."

"Yes, but I thought you were just... I mean… you mean you've been studying him all of your life so you can…"

"Let me guess… you, Kara, listen to a lot of the town folk's talk. Heard what happened. Saw my room just now. Figured that I was just twisted up inside and became obsessed with the man who tried to kill me. Sort of like a branched off version of Stockholm Syndrome."

I look away from him slowly. "Something like that."

"You're right though. I am obsessed. Obsessed with stopping him."

"Something tells me it's not going to be easy."

"No, anything but," he replies.

"Why is it that you feel like it's your responsibility, Tommy? Why put that on your own two shoulders?"

"I've done nothing but study him. I've had nothing but time to figure him out. And it seems that this town takes nothing seriously. They will all be caught with their guards down," he says albeit, a little sadly.

"Don't you think dedicating your life to something like that has stunted you?"

"You're talking about my lack of social skills an awful lot tonight," he says, skeptically.

"Because you terrify me, Tommy. You stare at me through a telescope all the time. You show no emotions. You are as still as a statue most of the time. It just seems to me like-" and I stop.

"Like I've become like him?" he asks perceptively.

"I wasn't going to say that," I respond softly.

"But you were thinking it," he says and I can't even respond to that because he's right on the mark.

"I know I've been trying to get into his head for years. It was my only way of coping. Some people would spend their lives trying to forget such a thing, but others, like me, would become obsessed with killing the thing that killed us."

That right there takes the wind right out of me and it takes me a moment, a very hard moment, not to feel even more afraid of Tommy Doyle than I already am. "Two wrongs don't make a right, Tommy."

"It's going to be the only way we survive, Kara," he says softly.

I sit on that for a moment until I think I can speak again. "Do you think he did?"

"Did what?"

"Killed you? I mean, sounds a little dramatic if you ask me."

Tommy looks over at me again, contemplating. "What do you think?"

I think on it for a moment and slowly, "I think what happened to you has given you a large case of survivor's guilt. And if you could, you'd save the entire world."

He grins up to the stars in the sky. "Ten points for Kara Strode, but she's not answering the question."

I laugh, an annoyed little laugh. "Okay, Mr. Dramatic, I think some things that happen to people cause certain things in us to die. I think your ability to care what others think of you died. I think your freedom to do what you want with your life died. I think your ability to feel good in anyway has seriously been stunted, but-"

"There's a but?" he asks, clearly amused.

"But- you're not helpless. There's still hope for you yet."

"Let me guess, you're one of those people that brought every sad critter you ever found home when you were growing up, didn't you?"

I jut my chin out, "What does that have to do with anything?"

He laughs, actually laughs and it's not at all unpleasant. "Because, Kara, I'm not fixable."

That hurts to hear more than I have any right for it to. How in the world does Tommy know just about everything I think?

"You think you're the only one damaged?" I ask defiantly.

"Oh I've seen enough of your father through that telescope to know you are. And your son's father isn't around. Everyone has their own stories, some sadder than others."

"But you think yours is worse than everyone else's?" I ask.

He looks down at my house. "I think everyone's story, everyone's baggage is big to them, no matter what it is. I'm on five different medications. One to help me sleep. One as a mood stabilizer. One anti-depressant. One for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder to keep me from going into live flashbacks, and another for my heart."

"Okay, I see, but a lot of people are medicated."

"True. Yet, most people, even though every story is different, a lot of people can relate to each other on a certain basic level. Someone like me goes into town and it's either one of two things ever since I was a kid. One: People want to ask vivid gory details about that night as nonchalantly as if they were asking me to describe details of a horror film. Two: You have those that completely avoid you, won't even make eye contact as if you were a leper, as if what happened to you is contagious."

"So you're saying you didn't choose to be anti-social, but that you were made to feel unwanted?"

"That's a little more whiney than I would have put it, but precisely, by half the population. The other half just don't have any tact and I really have no patience for it."

"And you want to save this same town?"

"Yes," he says shutting himself off again.

"That's incredibly unselfish."

"Or incredibly selfish," he mumbles just barely audible enough for me to hear it.

"How so?" I ask.

He lolls his head on his shoulder and looks at me with the first genuine smile he's given me yet. "That's a conversation for a whole other pack of cigarettes."

I can't help but smile back but he drops his gaze to his boots almost too quickly. "Does that mean you're going to let me back on your roof tomorrow night?"

His smile is long gone and I'm thinking the worst. "There might be another cigarette or two on the desk for you."

"When do I graduate to that whole pack?" I ask laughing.

He quirks the side of his mouth in thought. "Let's just survive Halloween night and figure that out after. I'd really hate to make plans if one of us doesn't make it past that night."

There it is, that cold dread. The one Tommy refuses to stop giving me. I can't imagine being in his shoes. He truly is a haunted man.


	3. Chapter 3

All day, I've felt in equal parts excited and dreadful, about my next visit to see Tommy tonight. He made it clear that I'm welcome, but I'm not so sure that's a good thing.

A person like Tommy, that has been through such a traumatic event, requires a lot of… I don't know what. I just know it's exhausting speaking to him, being around him. It's like walking on eggshells and not really knowing where those eggshell's paths are going.

It's clear that Tommy couldn't care less about impressing anyone. He's not interested in small talk, or filling silences. He simply doesn't need anyone's approval.

I'm jealous.

I so wish that I could live in such a world where I wasn't constantly wondering what everyone thinks of me. Having a son with no sign of his father in sight doesn't sit well with small town people. And men, I can catch smiles of, but once they catch the sight of my son, the light in their eyes dies. That's just as well, because no one that doesn't accept my son, deserves to even look at me. My son is the single most important thing in my life.

Going to school was something I knew I had to do if I came back home to live with my parents. It's easier to find hours to go to school, than it is to work, when you have a child. So yes, it's a way to keep my parents off of my back. And I do enjoy my major, being a Psychologist was something I had always been interested in doing, but college is full of kids that are there to party, not unlike my little brother Barry. So it's frustrating to be nearly the only one taking it seriously.

Yet, I've found that school makes me feel somewhat empowered again, and I haven't felt that way in a long time. My ex had a way of sucking the power out of people.

I wonder if someone like Tommy has ever had a girlfriend in his life. For some reason I just can't imagine Tommy kissing anyone, much less having a close intimate relationship with anyone. Just having a simple yes or no conversation with him takes a lot of effort.

My mother asked me how last night with the neighbor went and all I could say was, "He's very unusual."

"So he's as harmless as they say?" she asked.

"Not so much in some ways," I mumbled to myself.

"What was that, dear?" she asked.

"Oh- nothing, uh… yeah, I don't think he would hurt anyone. At least not anyone that didn't deserve it."

Mom smiled, "So you're seeing him again soon?"

I laughed, "You seriously could have been the Psychologist, you're way too observant, Mom."

She took her glasses off and started cleaning the lens' with the corner of her apron. "Well, I'm glad that you have made a friend. I would tell you to tell him that he's welcome over anytime. But, you never know what kind of day your father is having…"

"It's okay, Mom. It's nice to get out of the house. Even if it is just next door."

…

Heading over to Tommy's house, I'm not sure why it startles me to see an unmoving man standing in the front doorway again, but there Tommy is, looking as serious as a heart attack. Again.

I stubbornly refuse to say anything. Two can play the quiet game. However, the man just acts like it's the most normal thing in the world to make eye contact, unsmiling, step back, and allow me inside without saying a word. It doesn't go unnoticed that he gives me a much wider birth than needed, so that there's no accidental physical contact.

He takes me through the house, and up the stairs, and into his room without a word.

Only after he shuts the door behind me do I realize that his shoulders are hunched just a little higher than normal. And one would have to look, I mean really look, into his face to see that he's not just his usual stoic self, but that something is actually bothering him.

I want so bad to make him be the first that breaks the silence, but it dawns on me that maybe he just can't find his words today.

"Tommy?"

Eye contact.

"Feeling quiet today, huh?"

He passes me, drops two cigarettes onto his desk and climbs out of his already open window and onto the roof.

Just when I thought he couldn't get any weirder.

I take the cigarettes off of his desk and head out onto the roof to find that Tommy has a blanket set out for me. Not him, seeing as how he's not sitting on it, nor on one of his own, but the blanket is a good four feet safely away from him. I smile anyway.

I sit down onto the blanket and I hand him back his cigarettes, making sure not to let our fingers touch. We sit in a comfortable silence between us, looking up to the sky and back down to my house from time to time.

I've been trying not to think of it, but it has to be the reason that Tommy's bothered more than usual. It's just the way I work, when something is too heavy, I give its presence in my head denial, denial, and more denial. But now I know that I was incredibly ignorant to think that the unemotional man next door wouldn't be bothered about this being three days before Halloween.

With a sigh, I apologize. "I'm sorry I came if it's too hard for you right now."

A moment passes and just when I decide he's not going to reply, he says, "You mean, seeing me like this is uncomfortable for you."

I'm so elated just hearing him use his voice that I'm almost able to ignore the slight. Yet, as long as it keeps him talking… "Yes, that too. It's hard to have one way conversations with someone."

"But you haven't been talking."

"Yet, I've spoken, and received no reply."

"Details."

"Can you drop the defense mechanism, here? I'm not going to hurt you. I won't even hurt insects if I can help it."

Tommy looks at me with a look that makes me automatically regret what I've said, and says, "I have no ability to be afraid of anything, much less you."

"Of anything?"

"Of anything."

"Even of… him?"

His shoulders slump and he gives the chili night air a long sigh which comes out in cold breath clouds. "My doctors told my parents that my whole entire being is one big self defense mechanism. I don't know how to be any other way. I've been trying to get into Michael's head for so long that I can't fear him. It's hard for me to feel, but when I do, it's more like dread, a hatred, an eagerness to finally defeat the man. I just don't like the calm before the storm. Suspense sucks."

I double over, laughing so hard that it hurts. "That's the most I've heard you talk in one breath in two nights. And I believe it's the most human thing I've heard you say yet."

The corners of his mouth are twitching. "Yeah, well, don't get used to it."

A calm settles over us for a moment. It's nice.

"Tommy?"

"Hmm?"

"What do you think you would have been like? You know, if you hadn't had that experience?"

"Well… I guess the only way to answer that is to think of what I was like at eight years old."

"So, not a very accurate logic. Noted. But, what were you like?"

He lets out a huff, an almost laugh. "For one, I loved Halloween," he says and we both laugh for an ironic moment, "I was a talkative kid, if you can imagine."

I give a snort of a laugh. "That one's a little hard to comprehend."

"And, I loved horror movies, but was terrified of them."

"I'm guessing you're trying to convey that everything changed that night. But, as a kid, were you happy?"

The light in Tommy's eyes dims. "I was a sensitive kid; got picked on a lot at school. My parents weren't really home a lot, that's why I guess you could say, my babysitter was someone I didn't mind spending time with. I mean, yeah, she was paid to entertain me, but she was nice."

It hits me like a ton of bricks that Tommy's talking about Laurie Strode. And it makes my heart ache to hear it.

"I had such a crush on her. I'm pretty sure she knew it too. But, she wasn't like the high schoolers her age. She didn't seem embarrassed at all being seen in town with me. I planned to grow up and make her like me back."

Looking at Tommy as he speaks, his eyes are focused on nothing and he's far away.

"Do you miss her?" I ask.

"I did at first. I don't really have feels now, like I've said," he says, as always, brutally honest.

"If you could feel, what do you think you would feel right now, Tommy?" I whisper.

I watch his throat, visibly seeing him swallow his first answer that stays in his head. "Calm."

"I'm sure that's something you've had to learn how to perfect being around me."

He looks at me then, "Not really."

"Is that a compliment?" I ask, trying my hardest not to smile.

"It is what it is," he says vaguely.

I turn away and sigh, shaking my head. "I bet the kids that picked on you didn't mess with you after surviving a blood bath," I say just a tad bitterly, unhappy that a once hopeful talkative child with real feelings, was so unfairly changed and made into an unfeeling shell of a man.

"No, not so much. It's like I told you before about people and the way they are with me in town. They're either too eager to know the details, or they completely avoid me altogether."

"No happy mediums?"

"Maybe if I had allowed it."

I think on that for a moment. "Hey, what happened to the little girl, Linds-"

"Lindsey Wallace? Her parents loaded her up and got the hell out of dodge within a month or so."

"Have you ever thought about finding her?"

"It's better to leave certain things alone."

"Hey, Tommy, guess what?"

"What?"

"You've been speaking, out loud, to another person. On your roof, I might add."

"So?"

"So… isn't human contact nice?" I tease.

"It's bearable."

"Are you afraid to get close to people?"

"Don't," he says, "just, don't."

The tone in his voice stops me still, makes my heart pound in my ears, because I've finally managed to take it too far, and any kind of comfortableness I had managed to build between us seems to have just hit a very big pause.

"I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have," I say apologetically.

"No apologies. You're just doing what any normal human would do. You're trying to get inside my head. That's what people do when they get to know one another. They try to figure each other out. But Kara, my head… it's not a place you want inside of."

"You do know that that right there is driving my curiosity insane, right?"

He shakes his head reprimanding me. "Curiosity kills the cat."

Feeling child-like under his reprimanding gaze, a sudden flame of anger engulfs me. "So… you get to spy on me, my house, my family through your telescope, and could probably tell me when we eat, what time we go to sleep. You've seen my father's temper up close and personal, and you have the audacity to not allow me the same look into your life?"

"I haven't once asked you about your head space. What makes you sad, what makes you hurt. And I've spent years perfecting not feeling those things, and you feel safe actually dredging all of that up? How do you know I'm not dangerous inside of here?" he asks pointing to his temple. "How do you even know that what happened to me didn't make a psycho out of me, huh? Is that something a young mother such as yourself really needs to chance? Because I really think you should stop being so naïve."

"Is that a warning, Tommy?"

"It is what it is."

"Do you want to hurt me?"

"Haven't you listened to a word I'm saying? That's exactly what I'm trying to prevent. I have no idea who I am when I'm being forced open. But if you reach into someone's chest cavity, your hand will come out messy. It's simple logic."

"So, you don't want to hurt me, but you're afraid that if we got close, that you might. Isn't that a lonely existence?"

"It's a safe existence."

"Safe for whom? You or others like me?"

"You are impossible."

"Pot meet kettle. Safe for whom?"

"Kara… you already know the answer to that. Quit trying to break me."

"I don't want to break you. I just want to know you."

"No you don't. You want to be the first woman to get me to open up. You're like a dog with a bone. You're salivating for it."

"What do you salivate for?"

"That's a given, isn't it? Revenge."

"You're not going to rest until you kill him, are you?"

"Bingo."

"Then what? After you've gotten your revenge, saved the town, then what are your plans?"

"I haven't thought beyond that."

"I want to be your friend, Tommy."

"I don't do friends."

"Well… it's okay if you don't want to consider me as a friend. But, is it okay, if I think of you as my friend?"

"That's an interesting concept."

"Is that a yes?"

"It is what it is."

"Glad to know you approve."

"You're making it really hard to focus."

"On all of the darkness that consumes you as you plot revenge?" I ask a little too condescendingly.

He doesn't answer.

"Let me ask you, are you going to let me back onto your roof again?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Because I pissed you off."

"Kara, have you not learned anything? I don't hold onto any kind of thought that takes the focus off of my mission."

I give up with a sigh.

"Now it's my turn to ask you something," he says, "why do you even want to consider someone like me as a friend, especially after the way I talk to you?"

I think for a moment and tilt my head down to my house, making him follow my gaze. "You've seen my father's outbursts. But you didn't see him refuse to let my son and me come to live with him. Everyone has some good in them when you look hard enough."

Tommy snickers bitterly. "You've just compared me to an abusive husband and father, " he nods, "you're finally starting to grasp what I've been trying to tell you."

I look at him to see if there's any sarcasm in what he just said, but I find none.

"Tommy, you exhaust me."

That actually gets a genuine laugh out of him. "That's the first honest thing you've said about me yet."

I look at him. "Well if insulting you was I all I had to do to get a laugh out of you then let's see… you're mechanical, like a robot, you're cold, you're unusually rude. You care nothing about other people's feelings. Your aloofness is frustrating. You're super creepy with that whole telescope thing. You talk to me like you're light years older than me. How am I doing?"

"You're not insulting me, you're only telling me how I make you feel. You're actually really bad at this."

"Well your face is really bad at this."

"Wow… you're really bad at insulting people. But it's funny nonetheless," he says.

"Yet, you aren't laughing. Mr. McCreepy."

Gradually, I feel the silence become less tense and I wonder if I'm the only one that feels good about that. And I decide that before I can do anything to mess up this night any further, I decide that I better get home. I have an early class tomorrow anyway.

"I better go. It's getting late. Same place, same time tomorrow?"

"If you must."


	4. Chapter 4

As much as I've tried not to psycho analyze Tommy, my psychology class has taught me about people who have rituals, it's called Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, it's something that mentally happens as a form of controlling things when they have been put into situations that they can't control. And that's exactly what pops into my mind when I walk up the steps toward a silent Tommy, waiting at the open front door.

I decided I would try a different approach tonight, so I came bearing freshly baked cookies.

"These are for us tonight," I say trying not to be so bright but one can't simply hand someone freshly baked cookies without smiling warmly.

He looks down then back up at me. "What is it?"

"Hot out of the oven chocolate chip cookies."

His head tilts up and he backs a safe distance out of the way, "Then you may enter."

As I enter, I try something different, I try walking into the house a little closer than usual, but he does exactly what I was hoping he wouldn't, and that's visibly flinch away from me. I try acting like I don't notice which is really hard when something so sad happens. So I try for friendly. "He has jokes. Do you think Ms. Blankenship would like a cookie?"

"Don't get used to it. And no, they're mine," he says, and leads me up and into his room. I smile every step of the way.

Once we're inside of his room, I start peeling back the tinfoil and the sweet aroma of cookies fills his room. I hold the plate to him and he takes one for each hand. He takes a bite and his eyes roll back into his head, and to my surprise, the noise coming out of his mouth are way too happy for an abnormal man such as himself. It makes my legs go a little weak.

After a moment he seems to come back to his senses and sees me standing in front of him. "Oh don't look so pleased with yourself."

"You love my cookies, admit it. It's a feeling, and you're feeling it."

He chokes immediately, coughing with crumbs spraying out of his mouth. As he's bent over, he croaks out, "I hate you. That's a feeling. I'm feeling it."

"I thought you told me not to get used to you making jokes. You know, you're actually quite funny; a little on the smart Alec side, but funny no less."

"What can I say? You bring out the smart Alec in me. Come on," he says and motions to the window. "And bring the cookies."

Once we're comfortably sitting on the roof, me on last night's blanket, and he on shingles, we eat our cookies staring up at the sky; me, wondering what would be safe topics to talk about. And Tommy, I'm sure, thinking about tonight being the night before Halloween.

Surprisingly, Tommy is the first one to start our rooftop conversation. "Kara?"

"What?"

"Will you take your son and go on a vacation for a couple of days?"

"You're trying to get me out of town, aren't you? Why are you so sure that Michael Myers is coming back? It's been years."

"I take that as a no," he says, sounding frustrated.

"Okay," I say, setting my half eaten cookie back down onto the plate, "Let's say Michael does come home, and I take Danny and go away for a few days, I come home, and I find out my family, my dad, my mom, my brother Barry, have been killed. How do you think I would feel knowing that I could have stayed and tried to help them?"

Tommy picks up another cookie and looks at it for a moment debating on arguing my point or not. "You don't know all of it. I've spoken to you about the curse on Michael, but I haven't explained it to you."

"So explain it to me."

He looks at me, "Come back inside."

"Wait, what did I do now?"

"A lot. But that's not the point. I'm going to explain everything to you."

Back inside of Tommy's room, he sits at his computer desk and motions for me to take the seat a few feet from him. He starts typing fluidly and a bunch of symbols pop up on the monitor. "See those?" he asks and then goes into a long drawn in detail explanation of how Michael came to be the way he is and why. He then goes on to explain why he's killing every member of his family.

Once Tommy is through, and I've taken in all I can, I'm speechless.

"Wow… you finally have a lack of words, didn't know that was possible."

Ignoring him, I ask, "So, you're saying that it's not really Michael's fault that he is the way he is?"

"I can see where you're going with this and at the beginning, yes. However, there's nothing human left of him. He doesn't even respond to gunshot wounds. Nothing stops him."

"You mean to tell me, if the man gets shot, he just keeps on walking?"

Tommy turns to me. "Literally. I've seen it myself."

I sit back heavily in my chair, shaking my head to myself.

"You still want to stay in town for Trick or Treating?"

"He is like a ghost. Un-killable."

"Yes. But instead of a ghost, he's a shadow of a man, just less man, and more shadow, controlled by a curse."

"Was he ever a normal child?"

"Kara, if I'm guessing right that psychology is your major, and I'm pretty sure that I am, all of the psycho babble isn't going to work on him. You can't bake cookies for him and have long talks under the stars with him. So whether he was a normal child or not is irrelevant."

"Tommy… did you just romanticize our relationship?" I ask, unable to hide my surprise. And Tommy's stumped reaction is new. He honestly doesn't know what to say.

"Too much?" I ask, letting him off the hook.

He nods, "Yeah."

"Okay. Back to what you were saying, when did you find out I was a psych major?"

"The first night we spoke, I had my suspicions. But by the second night, I was almost positive."

"Am I that transparent?"

"Only if you consider you trying to fix me every time you're with me, trying to get me to talk about my childhood and my feelings and seeing you leave your parent's house with large books, then I say yeah, you're pretty transparent."

"Then why do you put up with me?"

He leans back and sighs softly. "I don't honestly know. But I think it's because you're willing to put up with me."

"I'm not going to stop trying to help you, you know," I confess.

He shakes his head to himself. "I don't expect you to. But let me ask you something… who helps you? You've obviously got issues."

"Thanks a lot, I say sarcastically, "I think that's why I like to help people, it helps me with my own problems."

"You mean it helps you to forget about your own problems."

"I guess that makes me pretty selfish, doesn't it?"

"It just makes you more human. It almost makes me forgive you for trying to get me to bear my soul to you by baking me cookies. Don't you know it's like a sin to abuse baked goods like that?"

He has me laughing now and I think I can recognize the look of satisfaction on his face now when he gets that reaction out of me; feels good.

"Tommy, do you think you'll ever be able to trust me?"

"Probably not. I don't want to lie to you."

"I would never want to hurt you, Tommy."

"Don't you understand by now that it's not about you? I just don't think that a person like me can ever really trust all that's up here," he says pointing to his temple, "with anyone. Not really ever. Not even someone like you."

"Someone like me?"

"Yeah," he says and that's all he's giving.

"What's so bad that you don't trust yourself, Tommy? Why are you so down on yourself?"

He sighs heavily, the weight of the world on his shoulders. "Okay, I'll show you."

Tommy gets up and goes to his dresser and pulls out a drawer. "If you want to leave after this, I understand. In fact, if you never want to talk to me again, I wouldn't blame you."

"Tommy, you're scaring me."

He looks back with an unrecognizable expression. "I don't think you realize the extent of what I've had to do to truly understand Michael Myers," he says and pulls something out of his drawer.

I can feel the blood drain from my face, because I know exactly what's in Tommy's hand. I recognize it from the newspaper clipping on his wall. "That's the face, I mean the mask of-"

"Yes, Michael Myers," he finishes for me.

I stand up. "Why would you have that?"

"I put it on and sit, unmoving for hours, trying to think his thoughts, his motives. I try every day."

"Every day?" I whisper. "For how long?"

"Years now," he replies. "I'm sure all of your psychology lessons are flipping like pages in your head right about now."

"That's an understatement, Tommy."

"Have I succeeded yet?" he asks.

"At what?"

"Making you afraid of me."

I look up slowly at him and stand up even slower. "I've been terrified of you ever since I saw you watching me through your telescope. The first time I came over, it was to scope you out myself, to see just how much danger my son and I were in living next door to a disturbed man such as yourself. I admit I've been more curious in the last few days I've spent talking to you, than I have been scared of you. But you're so much like Michael, Tommy. So much like him. You've spent so many years holed up in this room in that mask that you've almost succeeded in becoming him. You don't move. You're as still as a statue, that's unless I get too close physically, but then you flinch away because you don't like to be touched. You yourself said that you can't feel anything but hatred and the desire for revenge."

He smiles. "Now you finally understand the very thing I've been trying to tell you. I'm not sane. I'm not okay. But I've done what I have to do, and because of it, I'm the only man that can stop him. And if that means giving up any hope of having a life of my own, then that's just the risk I'm going to have to take. Feel like leaving yet?"

I think about leaving, I really want to, but there's something I have to see first. "Put on the mask," I tell him.

He looks taken aback, "What?"

I walk across the room, away from him. "I said, put on the mask, Tommy."

We share a look and it feels like final moments before we're thrust into something uncharted. "I've never put the mask on while I'm in the same room with someone. I'm not sure what I'll do. I don't want to hurt you."

I nod. "I'm safe, I'm near the door. I'll haul it out of here at the first sense of danger."

That seems to appease him, not a lot, but just enough. My heartbeat quickens as he lifts the mask. I want to stop him but I know this is my very first peek into the deepest depths of Tommy Doyle and I might never get this chance again.

Tommy pulls the mask carefully over his head and what's standing across the room from me is unlike anything I've ever seen. It's not just some Halloween mask, I can handle Halloween costumes, but there's something very consuming about this one certain face.

I try finding Tommy beneath the mask, I search for Tommy's stern, yet calm eyes, but I'm finding nothing left of him. The eyes in the mask are raging, and Tommy's chest, it's seething. He's so ate up with the thirst for revenge that the mask is wearing him.

My heart aches for the man that misses his beloved Lourie; the hopeful kid that loved Halloween and horror movies and was bullied at school by his peers.

I try keeping myself together but my voice shakes as I try to speak. "Oh, Tommy, what have you done to yourself?"

His only response is a very slow tilt of the head; it's uncurious. It's more like an examination of what's before him.

Something occurs to me and I just can't imagine Tommy flinching away from me while he's hiding underneath such a menacing façade.

I start moving slowly across the room. I stop a few feet in front of him, "I just want to see," I whisper, and close the distance between us. He's not budging, not even a flinch. I shakily reach out my hand and place in onto his chest. And I start as he grabs my hand with a grip way too hard to be comfortable. "Tommy, it's okay. You won't hurt me." And as quick as I can, I stand on my tip toes and kiss the man through the mask.

It's an experimental kiss but something in me surprises me. I like this. And Tommy, Tommy's let go of my hand and his arms are now around me, albeit a little too tight for me to breathe, but he's doing it, he's actually touching another human being. And it's me.

I break our kiss slowly and I know the response won't be a good one but I have to, "Do you want to try the next kiss without the mask?"

He drops me like I'm hot, steps back, and I struggle to regain my balance and stay on my feet. He rips the mask off and breathes in huge gulps of air, looking frantic for a moment.

"Wh- what just happened?" he asks.

"I was just wondering the same thing."

"Did- did I hurt you? Are you okay?" he asks frantically.

"What do you mean, Tommy? We kissed, that's not a crime. It was a little rubbery for my taste, but not awful."

He takes a couple of more steps back. "We kissed?"

Just like a punch to the gut, I realize… "You blacked out, didn't you?"

Still sucking in deep breaths of air, he says. "The last thing I remember is sliding the mask over my head."

And just like that, I feel crushed. I'm not even sure why, but I do. My head drops and the floor becomes blurry. He misunderstands my behavior. "I did, I did hurt you, I'm so sorry. I told you, I told you, you didn't want to know me, how messed up I am."

"You didn't hurt me, Tommy, " I say looking up teary eyed, "I just thought that both of us would remember our first kiss."

"Kara, why would you even get that close to me while I'm wearing that mask? Why are you so careless with yourself?"

"Tommy, you need to know, while you were in that mask, you were only a little aggressive. You didn't hurt me at all. In fact, you kissed back. You touched me, Tommy. Your arms were actually around me. And you didn't even flinch away." I withheld the parts where he grabbed my hand and squeezed tightly, and when he was cutting off my airflow holding me so tight.

He looks at me stunned. "I did? How is that even possible? I haven't been able to be touched since I was eight years old."

Just when I thought my heart couldn't get any softer for this man. "You haven't touched nor been touched in fifteen years?"

He shakes his head, "No, I haven't. Wait- why the hell would you even want to kiss someone wearing something so evil? Are you demented, Kara?"

"I think I may be, just a little, Tommy. Don't hate me."

He laughs; a hysterical kind of release. "I'm the one that can't be touched unless I feel I have the power of a murderer and you don't want me to hate you? Kara, I hate you for baking me cookies and breaking inside of me and curling up there, but I don't hate you for being just a tad demented like me."

I smile. "I guess we're both pretty screwed up, huh?"

He smiles with his eyes for a moment. "So how was the kiss?"

"Let's just say the next time, I'll make sure it's Tommy Doyle kissing me and not Michael."

He nods, "Good call."

"I have to go, it's late. Tommy, are you going to be alright?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing. Look, you don't have to worry, I'll be watching over you and your house tonight."

I shake my head at myself for absolutely loving how disturbed this man is. "Goodnight, Tommy."

He doesn't say anything back, just watches me go.


	5. Chapter 5

I've been trying not to think of Halloween. Today is the day.

Now that I've spent some time with my neighbor, I know that the world Tommy lives in is very much real, and not just to him. In his world, bad things happen. In his world he's like a soldier training and training and knowing eventually, he will have to go to war.

The plan is to take Danny trick or treating and all of the mom stuff. I've loved it every year since he's been born, and even though I don't entirely approve of the shirt my brother had made for him, seeing my little guy in an oversized shirt is way too hilarious to object to.

Mom has bought candy for the neighborhood kids for when they show up trick or treating, and Dad is going be working late. Tim and Beth will be at the town's Halloween festival and life is happening while everyone is completely oblivious to the dangers that tonight might hold.

I've been hoping and praying that Michael doesn't come here, come home. Yet, I can't stop the ache in the pit of my stomach when I think of how Tommy is so sure that tonight is the night.

As much as I would like to spend this holiday with as much Halloween spirit as everyone else, my mind is with Tommy.

Why did I have to go next door? Why did I allow my curiosity to win the best of me? A dark foreboding cloud hovers over me. I thought I could handle getting to know the man next door. I'm naturally interested about those that are mentally unstable, how could a psych student not be?

You have to have a certain amount of compassion to be able to handle people like that. And one definitely couldn't be a Psychologist if it weren't their calling. It's not something you want to do for a living just for the money. It has to be something more. You have to genuinely want to help people in mental and emotional need.

I don't think I'm handling the situation with Tommy very well. I genuinely want to help him, but it's Psychology 101, don't get emotionally involved with those you're trying to help on a professional level. It's a really good thing he isn't an actual patient.

It's so like me to do this. I always get so ahead of myself, that's how I ended up with Danny. Don't get me wrong, he's my little blessing, something that wonderful coming out of a toxic relationship like I was in with Danny's father, is nothing short of a miracle. But I would be lying if I said that I wouldn't have liked to be married or at least in a healthy relationship if I'm going to be a mother.

Now here I am, young, single, and a mother. I close my eyes and shake my head as I realize that maybe all of the reasons I've been telling myself I've been getting to know the man next door is all bull. Maybe I'm the lonely one and not Tommy.

Walking home from school is an unusual walk, seeing all of the decorated houses always used to give me the warm fuzzies, but this year all it does is bruises the hovering cloud above my head that much more.

Getting inside of my house, I instantly realize that it's eerily quiet. I call out for Mom but she isn't answering. Danny should already be home by now and Mom always takes care of him for me until I get home.

Walking through the quiet house makes my heart pound in my ears and I'm torn in half between running down the hall to Danny's room and going as slow as possible when I see his usually closed door slightly ajar.

As I push my way into his room my eyes land on the back I've come to know and instantly and judgingly draw the wrong conclusion.

"What are you doing here?" I ask angrily and Tommy turns around. "Wh-what are you doing with my son? A-and where is my mother?"

"Uh, she wasn't here when Danny came home."

I look down at Danny. "Danny, go downstairs."

"But Tommy's my new friend. He knows all about dinosaurs," my son chirps.

Tommy stands up slowly and turns around and what I see makes my jaw drop. Tommy's holding a bundled up baby in a blanket.

"Do you know whose room this used to be?" Tommy asks. "You know what, forget that for the moment, we need to get next door," he says hardly using his voice, not too comfortable being out of his element. I just keep staring agape at him. "Now!" he demands.

I have questions, so many questions, but I know if Tommy's coming out of his safe haven to go into someone's house just to keep someone's son, my son safe, then he has good reason. Not that I particularly like coming home to finding Danny alone in the room with him, but that baby in his arms tells me that things have already started happening today. And right now, thinking of how my mother is nowhere near around and how eerily quiet my parent's house is at the moment, I feel way better about leaving the house and following Tommy to his.

"Come on, Danny, let's go to see Tommy's house, okay?"

"Okay, Mommy."

Tommy watches the exchange in words between my son and me with a fraction of interest in his eyes and he leads the way out of my house holding the tiny quiet baby closely and cuts across our yard to his house just as he's seen me do the last four nights.

When we make our way into the house, Tommy calls out, "Hi, Ms. B," and it's more like he's doing it on purpose with that baby in his arms, humored because she doesn't notice it, much less notices anything when her eyes are glued to the tv.

After we make it into Tommy's bedroom, the baby starts to cry and I realize that bringing my son into this particular room might not be such a good idea. The room's walls and ceiling and all are basically wallpapered with those horrid newspaper clippings of all of Michael Myers' articles.

I look pointedly at my son and back at Tommy. "Uh- you don't expect us to stay here, do you?"

Tommy ignores what I say and says, "I want you to watch your house. You can see everything through that window."

"Do you know how insane this is? Who am I supposed to be looking for?" I ask, thinking it's either Michael or Mom and certainly hoping for the latter.

He nods his head up once toward the wall and says, "Him." And I look back at the wall space he was referring to and in big bold letters is says, "MICHAEL MYERS – DEAD OR ALIVE?"

It's the strangest thing in the world hearing Tommy trying to sooth a crying baby. His little words of, "Hey, hey, it's okay, Steven," sounds like he's really trying, but just doesn't have the warmth it takes either. A mother would know. And it's quite funny how my son finds Tommy's action figures and grabs a Power Ranger and starts playing with it around the room. I never noticed Tommy had toys of his own. It's almost enough to make me smile in this crazy moment.

I'm back to focusing on the articles on Tommy's wall, because it's like looking at a car crash, once you've looked you can't keep yourself from looking harder.

"Mommy? Mom!"

"Not now, Danny."

At hearing Tommy's vain attempts of calming Steven down enough to take a bottle, I offer to help, taking the baby into my arms and the baby instantly calms. "See? All he needed was a mother's touch," I tell Tommy and I've never seen so much warmth in his eyes before now, and it seems to surprise him as much as it surprises me because he's a little flustered, not really looking like he knows what to say or do. Almost as if he needs to apologize for being human for a moment.

As I feed the baby, Tommy grabs his jacket and I ask, "Why are you leaving?"

"Because, I'm the only man that knows how to stop him," he replies, about to honest to God leave me in his room while he plans on taking on the murderer by himself, but suddenly, I don't see Danny anywhere. "Oh my G- where's Danny?"

Tommy says nothing, we just take off out of his room as quickly as we can and before I know it, I'm handing baby Steven to Ms. Blankenship, and taking off to my house.


	6. Chapter 6

Sitting in Tommy's room feels like the feeling you get when you're dreaming that you're dreaming. Not really believing you're here in the now because what's happened is too much for the mind to comprehend with.

Danny and Stephen are tucked safely next to each other in Tommy's bed. We watch them closely to make sure Danny doesn't roll over on little baby Stephen, but my son has already taken a liking to the baby boy, and even looks to be sleeping carefully next to him.

Tommy is sitting in his desk chair, unmoving, just staring unseeingly at the wall.

I'm in a state of consciousness, just not fully intact. Tommy and I are both in shock. We still haven't come down from the adrenaline that was pumping through our veins in overdrive just trying to get us through the night. It's November 1st, eight o'clock in the morning, the sun has risen as if the night before never happened. The only evidence is the four patrol cars, and three ambulances, outside of my parent's house next door.

"I failed."

I turn to Tommy. "What?"

He turns to me. "I said, I failed."

I go and kneel down beside him and I chance taking his hand into mine, because last night there was touching; nothing intimate, just him grabbing me and dragging me to help me hurry as the stalker came after us. He even had me in his embrace with his hand over my mouth at one point when I nearly gave us away when I saw Danny in the same room with the evil doctors. So I'm hoping that Tommy has gotten used to my touch by now, but to no avail, he rips his hand out of mine and stands to start pacing, raking his hands through his hair.

I stand up. "Tommy, you saved my life, my son's life, Steven's life."

Tommy keeps pacing. "He's still out there, Kara. Now, every Halloween might look like this one. He will kill again over and over and ov-"

I go to him and grab his face in the palms of my hands. "Tommy, listen to me, we survived; that's not a failure."

He jerks out of my hands and turns away and whispers loudly, "I couldn't even get close enough to him to perform the ritual that would break the curse that's on him."

"Because you had a baby to protect, then find, then protect again. On top of that, you were busy helping my son and me survive. So if it's anybody's fault, it's mine. So blame me."

"Don't do that," he says with a grimace.

"Why not? It's the truth isn't it?"

"Don't try your reverse psychology on me, Kara. Now is not the time."

I sit down in the chair he was previously sitting in and put my face in my hands, feeling defeated. Tommy was just going to have to rant it out.

"I-I was ready to sacrifice myself if necessary. Why didn't I just hide Steven somewhere like Jamie did? Why did I allow you to come with me into your house? That could have been fatal."

"He basically had my son, Tommy. There's no way you could have stopped me," I say grabbing my hair and forcing it back, "he had my son," I whisper once more.

"Tommy, you need to perform the ritual on Danny, and probably even Steven," I say with tears rolling down my cheeks.

"I plan to," Tommy says, going up to the window and placing his hands on either side of it.

"Do you really think they will be like Michael if you don't," I ask.

Tommy turns back to me then looks at the innocent children that have taken up residency in his life. "Better to play it safe than sorry."

I nod in agreement, not liking the thought of any kind of ritual being performed anywhere near my son but I'm not willing to take any chances, and Tommy has been right so far.

"They're here," Tommy says and this is the part I've been dreading. Wishing I could take Tommy's hand for comfort, I settle for him just coming with me. We take another look at Danny and Stephen to make sure they're secure and head down the stairs.

After a couple of knocks on the front door, we open it to find two officers mirroring each other with fists on their hips standing in the doorway. "Are you Kara Strode?"

My voice grates out, "I am."

They both take off their hats in respect and my knees go weak. "I'm sorry to tell you this, ma'am, but your father, your mother, your brother, and his girlfriend were all killed last night."

I never felt Tommy's arms around my waist, as he tried his best to keep me from hitting the floor.

I wake up on the couch with a rag on my forehead and look around and see Tommy speaking to the police officers, looking as calm as ever. Naturally.

I sit up and it grabs his attention. He walks over to me and says, "Kara, they need us to answer some questions. We have to go to the police station and fill out a report."

I nod weakly, ready to get this part over with and go up to get my son and Steven.

…

At the police station, my son is being watched after by a woman police officer in the next room and Steven is in Tommy's arms, as we give our statements.

I don't think I've ever been able to relate to Tommy until now. I answer each question with short clipped answers in a mechanical monotone voice. I simply cannot allow myself to break. I'm a mother, and truthfully, all of this just hasn't sunk in yet.

Tommy answers his questions with no sign of emotion except for fury at not doing something more to keep Michael from disappearing into the night again.

A lady knocks and steps in. "Sir, the social worker is here."

The officer looks at her and signals with his hand, "Okay, bring her on in, I think I'm done here."

A few seconds later a woman with a briefcase and wearing a smart suit comes in smiling way too warmly for me to find it comforting at the moment. "Hi, I'm Cindy Threshold and I'm here about Jamie Lloyd's son."

"His name is Steven," Tommy mumbles, clearly not happy.

She smiles again this time not sounding as sure. "What was that sir?"

"I said, 'his name is Steven.' And what are you here for? To take him so he can just be a ward of the state? Feeding us a load of bull about how he will be put into a wonderful foster home and adopted within a short time?"

The woman's jaw drops and she stands up to her full height. "It's not bull, and that's just the law. If you're considering adopting this baby, then you have to go through the proper proceedings. We can't just allow someone that's not family to take him." 

I speak up. "Actually, I'm a family member."

Tommy's eyes go wide, a light-bulb moment in the making. I can tell he never thought of that.

"And who are you?" she asks.

I go into it and explain the family situation to her. "You have to have proof of a good steady income, and proof of a place to live, you know, a good place for him to be brought up."

I sink back down into my chair, once again feeling defeated. Then I shoot straight up. "I've just inherited a home, practically. And I'm a full time student."

"A home and no job. And I'm sorry but you barely seem to be holding yourself together after such a terrible event," she says nodding as if she thought as much.

I want to throw the fact that I've been raising a son practically on my own in her face, but she has a point. I will have to get a job to support my son and me and keep the lights and water on in the house that's probably going to me. And I don't want her getting any ideas about me being an unfit mother.

"Look, I'm sorry, but please hand me the baby. By law I'm required to take him into the Child Protective Service's custody.

Tommy stands up. "His name is Steven, and he's not going anywhere."

"Sir," she says stepping forward, "we need to take Steven to a hospital and let him be checked over. Don't forget, he's survived a terrible horror along with you and needs to have proper care."

Tommy looks at me and it's the most terrible thing I've ever seen. His Adam's apple is bobbing, and tears are forming in his eyes because he knows this lady is right and he's going to have to let Steven go, because it's what's best for him.

For some reason he hands Steven to me and forces me to be the one to hand him over. At first it hurts, because I'm a mother and in just a day I already feel like Tommy and I have become parents to this little helpless being. But the hurt is clearly all over Tommy's face and at this point I would do anything to make that hurt go away. He's not used to feeling, so he's feeling everything ten-fold.

Tears drop from my eyes and I hand Steven over and let go. I turn and cry into Tommy's shoulder as she leaves and for once, Tommy doesn't push me away, just awkwardly holds me as best as he can manage as I weep for Steven, for my parents, for my brother and Beth.

Danny and I stay with Tommy for the next few weeks while my house is still a crime scene. Danny sleeps on a cot and I sleep on Tommy's bed as far away from him as possible so that there's no accidental touching. He complains that he can't sleep so close to another human being but calls me an idiot when I offer sleeping somewhere else.

In the dark one night, Tommy whispers, "We have to get Steven back. I didn't have a chance to perform the ritual."

I roll over to face him, unable to sleep anyway. "I know," I whisper back.

"But I've done more research, Tommy. They aren't going to let you adopt a baby with your background of mental illness. And they're not going to allow me to adopt because I'm a single mother that couldn't make above minimum wage."

"Then we'll take him and disappear."

"Tommy, you're not serious."

"You want to bet?"

"What would we do? Where would we go? Just wait it out a little longer, okay? I have yet to hear from the attorney about my dad's will. You never know, something good might happen."

I see Tommy's silhouette outlined in the moonlight shining down through the curtains of his window. He's clicking his jaw, something I've noticed he does when he's thinking something hard.

"Okay, but if something doesn't work out in our favor in that area, then we're doing what I originally proposed."

"Deal."


	7. Chapter 7

"Ms. Strode, the will I have just read, is in your favor. Your father paid in full for the house when he bought it and so now it's legally yours."

I look at Tommy not believing my luck. "I had no idea he had that kind of money," I wonder aloud. He was tight with his money but maybe he really didn't drink it all away.

"There were insurance policies on both of your parents, but none on your brother. It should be well over enough to pay for the cost of the funerals and set you up nicely for at least a little while so you can get on your feet. But of course, it's none of my business what you do with the money."

The possibilities are already running through my head. The car my dad used was old but it was paid for and left to me as well, so I can get a job. My parents left no dept that we know of. So everything is coming together.

"There's only one problem," Tommy says, on our way back to his house, "that's still Michael's home and he will come back, you've already seen proof of that."

"Since it's mine, we can live in it for now, we have nearly a whole year to sell it. I've already thought of that too, Tommy," I tell him and he seems to deflate in relief in the passenger seat, like a balloon that had been aired up way too tight but let go right before it was about to burst.

"We'll be dealing with pranksters as your father had," he says and I've had enough.

"Look, stop thinking of all of the bad things, here. I just had to bury my family. Can't you be just a little more positive? I mean, it's not like you're a very good shoulder to cry on. Besides, the car is left to me so that means I can get a job and that's one step closer to getting Stephen back, wouldn't you agree?"

"No," Tommy says. "I'm the one that's getting a job, you have to finish school."

And just like that, my hope in the disturbed man next door is restored. "Tommy, you don't have to do that, I know you have a hard time-"

"Socializing, yeah. But not working. I've had jobs, and I can get another. Besides, call me sexist but I'm not letting a woman provide for me and the two children we're going to be taking care of."

It's everything in me to keep from swerving the car at the shock pulsing through me. "Tommy, you do realize you just said you're going to be raising both of the boys, don't you? You don't have to sign up for that."

"I'm the only one that can keep you and the boys safe," he says.

"That doesn't mean you have to sign up to be a father."

"Oh I'm signing up for that, I just don't think I should be your husband."

"Who said anything about marriage?"

"They would give us less of a hard time about adopting Stephen if we were married."

"I hadn't thought of that."

"Yeah."

"So what do we do?" I ask.

"Get married," he says with a shrug.

"But didn't you just get through saying that you shouldn't be my husband?"

"Just because we're getting married doesn't mean we have to play our roles out when we're alone at home. It can just be a legal agreement between two adults that have the best in mind for a couple of kids. Kara, these kids have targets on them, whether you want to admit it to yourself or not. So, it's up to me to do what I have to do to protect them. I just know that I won't be able to do the warm fuzzy stuff for them. That's where you would step in. We can have separate rooms, we don't have to actually live as husband and wife."

"Okay, Tommy, whatever makes you feel more comfortable."

He nods, "Trust me, you'll be more comfortable too."

I ignore him and tell him, "Just don't wear the mask around the kids, okay?"

"Wouldn't do that."

"I know, just had to say it."

Now that the house isn't a crime scene anymore Tommy, Danny, and I roll up into the driveway and sit for a moment.

"You should let me check it out and make sure there's no places that needs to be taken care of before Danny walks in there, if you catch my drift."

I have to bite my lip to keep from letting my tears spill over again.

"So why don't you and Danny head back to my room next door and wait for me to come get you."

With a relieved sigh, I nod my head, unable to actually use my words. And Tommy gets out of the car with the keys I just handed him and disappears inside.

"Come on, Danny."

Sitting inside of Tommy's room, Danny's as still as a doorknob looking out of the window. He speaks and does what he's told but he's been working on autopilot. They suggested therapy for him and I think I may have to do that. My son isn't himself.

It's almost four hours that we wait for Tommy to come back and it's nearly completely dark outside when he comes into the room. Relieved I walked to him, "How bad was it?"

Tommy looks exhausted and walks past me, "I took care of it. I've got a small fire going behind the house. I'm going to pack a bag and we'll head back over there."

Once inside the house that was previously alive with voices and living breathing family of mine, the difference is so evident that I sway a little and Tommy catches me by the elbow. "Don't pass out on me, Kara."

I nod, and try as hard as I can to find the strength I need to make the worry in my son's eyes go away. "Danny, why don't you head to your room and get your pajamas on and I'll be up in a second to tuck you in."

"Okay, Mommy."

I walk through the house and see large chunks of carpet missing, and I know why. "Thank you, Tommy," I whisper shakily, but he doesn't respond.

The bedding and mattress are gone from my room and they're no doubt in the fire out back. There was no carpet in my room to begin with but when I make my way to the bathroom I see most of our towels missing. Tommy had gone through all of the rooms in the house and taken every trace and evidence of human blood where it was spilled and did away with it so Danny and I wouldn't have to see any of it.

"Don't go down into the basement just yet. I'll take care of that tonight before I go to bed. Just don't look outside to the burning pile."

I nod, "Okay. I can't repay you enough, Tommy."

"Look at it this way, you're letting me live here. I have to pull my weight. Plus, not having to live at Ms. Blankenship's place anymore is a big plus. It's easier for me to do this stuff. They weren't my family. Also, by doing this, you're helping me get Steven back."

"I suppose you're right."

"I know I am. Now, Danny's room was fine, your room not so much, but your parent's room was untouched, but I went ahead and found a linen closet and replaced the bedding for you so you wouldn't- well- anyway, you can sleep in there and I can take the couch in the living room."

"Thank you for thinking of me, Tommy. You're actually a lot more considerate than you give yourself credit for. Are you sure about the couch?" I ask.

"Positive. Go to bed, Kara," he orders and it makes me smile a little. With Tommy here, we all might just survive all of this.


	8. Chapter 8

It was a mistake to think that I would get any sleep in the house where my family was murdered. It was also a mistake to think that I could sleep in a house that Michael Myers considers home. It was even more of a mistake to think that Tommy could sleep here.

As the days roll on Tommy and I being overly exhausted, snap at each other more and more. But it's nothing that lingers. Tommy's inability to feel abundantly, helps him not to hold grudges, so it works that he's not one to give or expect apologies.

This morning I got up early to fix breakfast and call the school to let them know that Danny will be back to school tomorrow. I figured another day of rest was all they would tolerate on account of him missing the last week and a half of school. He takes the bus so as the normal routine had been, I will be walking to the college again. I explained to my professors and even spoke to the dean about my absence. All of them were very understanding and gave me extra assignments to make up for lost credit.

Tommy found a job working on an oil rig. I was a little let down at first when he told me where he found a job because I thought that meant he would be traveling. He read my mind and said, "You don't really think I'm leaving you without a vehicle and no way to protect yourself here, Kara. It's on a local rig. They told me that I might have to travel in the future to do maintenance on rigs, but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

I allowed him to see how relieved I was, then asked, "Wait- you know mechanics?"

He looked at me and replied, "Yes? Don't look so surprised, I told you I've had jobs."

I shook my head at him and threw the dishtowel I was drying my hands on at his head, which he caught without blinking.

Everything seems to be working out, even if we are still emotionally drained and needing better sleep. The job Tommy has is good money, and fortunately, as I figured, his 'man of few words' attitude is what they usually look for in a place like that. 'Less talking and more hands on working' is what Tommy came home from his interview and said that the employer had told him. There was a glint in Tommy's eye that told me he knew I would get a kick out of that.

He started three days ago. He works the morning shift and comes in exhausted, sunburned, and caked with dirt and sweat. Not an unpleasant look. I have to really keep a lid on the woman in me that's forced to be in such close quarters with a man that has green eyes that clash against dark hair and a body that's way more in shape than it has any right to be for a man that's been holed up in a room trying to get into the mind of a serial killer. But nonetheless, I do. I can't allow myself to forget just how much baggage the man carries though. It's not like I don't carry any but the man has dedicated his life to the study of an evil person to hopefully kill him. The thought of that kind of hatred living inside of Tommy makes me feel as if someone has pulled the back of my shirt open and dumped ice water down my spine.

Danny is no less captured by the man than he was when he first met him and Tommy told him all he knew about dinosaurs. My son is starved for the love of a father and it's simultaneously the scariest and sweetest thing to see him following around a silent Tommy as he does things around the house; scary because I've never let any man into my son's life that wasn't my brother or my father, and albeit, his own father for that short while; yet sweet, because if Tommy does mind, he doesn't seem to show it. While he fixes leaks or takes up carpet, he robotically explains everything he's doing and Danny now knows what most tools are called from playing handyman's assistant around the house. Tonight he plans to show Danny how to look under a hood of a car and know what he's looking at. I think that it's Tommy's way of trying to keep out of my hair, but more so, trying to keep me at a distance.

I don't want to bring it up but he's the one that made the decision and it's going to have to be brought up sooner or later. "Tommy?"

"Uh oh, that's your we need to talk voice."

"You already sound like a husband that's for sure."

"So it's about that. Okay, you're wanting to know when, right?"

"Do you still think we have to?" I ask.

He looks at me, studying, I hate when he does that, hits things head on the same way he does… Michael Myers.

"Kara, were you married to your ex?"

Taken aback a little I try to figure out why he's asking, but for the life of me, I can't figure out why, so I ask him, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Doesn't," he replies.

"Then why did you ask?"

"Curiosity. So that's a no, right?"

"Yeah, a big no."

"Okay, so yes, I do think that we have to. Yet, I haven't asked you what you really think of becoming a mother to a new child."

 _Oh_. "I- I haven't really given it much thought. Beyond it being something that has to be done. Steven has the curse on him and unless we get him back and break the curse then the family, foster, or adopted, will be put into danger just like Michael's family was. So it's something that I have to do."

Tommy only nods. He and I are on different pages about this, and even though I won't bring it up and risk an overly emotional burn out where Tommy is concerned, there's no denying the attachment Tommy has to that little baby. He was doing everything he could for that tiny thing ever since he found him hidden at the bus station.

The only reply I can give is this one. "If you're willing to take in my child and look after him, then I'm willing to do the same with yours."

Tommy looks uncomfortable at the sentiment implied, but doesn't disagree. "So how do you want to do this? The wedding I mean."

I think a sad moment of how none of my closest family members will be able to attend, fake wedding or not, and blink away the tears.

Tommy picks up on it and nods, "Informal, got it. The Justice of the Peace sound good to you?"

I huff out a small laugh. "I can't believe I'm marrying the Peeping Tom next door."

"Well I can't believe I'm marrying a psych major that will eventually be an actual Psychologist. I've had my fair share of therapists and believe me it gives me cold shills whenever I think about it."

"Your face gives me cold chills."

"You're still bad at insulting me, and oh that's right, you prefer me with the mask."

I snap the towel at his side and make him jump. "Anything is better than that ugly mug," I say laughing.

Tommy laughs and it's his rare laugh, the one he surprises himself with. "Don't you have class or something? Go to school."

"I start back tomorrow, not today. So…"

"So…"

"Tommy, don't make me ask when we're doing this getting hitched thing."

"Hey, I'm the man, my only job is to propose and I already did that. You're supposed to plan the stupid thing."

"Well seeing as how you didn't get on one knee and your proposal involved separate bedrooms, I figured we weren't going by the book."

Tommy sighs. "Don't tell me it bothers you that we aren't really going to be husband and wife."

"It doesn't, I understand our circumstance."

"But you're disappointed because you just figured your first marriage would involve love."

I look away and out the window, feeling punched in the gut. One large hand grabs my elbow, it seems the only kind of contact he can stand, the one that makes him feel in control.

"Kara, you know I'm incapable of love. I don't want you going into this with any kind of romantic notions. Look at me," he demands and when I do, he says, "What you see is what you get. If I could love anyone, you would certainly be the easiest one. But I'm ate up with such dark things in my mind that I feel like I'm the one that's cursed sometimes. And don't take that as an invitation to try to be the one that breaks the curse. I've been in a constant state of nightmare since I was eight years old, and as a psych major you should have learned by now that you don't wake someone with night terrors. I have no idea what kind of person I even would be if I was to suddenly wake up one day and feel everything I've been subconsciously suppressing all of these years. But something tells me it will be anything but romantic."

Just like that, every secret bit of hope I had been suppressing to protect my heart from another break, has been shot into non-existence.

"Tommy… if at some point, you do wake up, I'll be here."

"I know," he says, "but if you knew what was good for you, you wouldn't be."

A bitter snicker makes its way out of my mouth. "What makes you think I've ever been good at knowing what's good for me?"

He straightens up and purses his lips in thought. "You've left Danny's father and sooner or later you might have to leave me. You've done it once so I know you're strong enough to do it again."

With that, Tommy leaves the room. That's it, end of conversation. I hate when he does that. Looking back out the kitchen window I think to myself that Tommy gives me way too much credit. If he only knew the countless amounts of times I went back to Danny's father after the horrid things he would do to me. If only he knew about me taking him back even after he broke Danny's arm. I've never been smart about men. In fact, I didn't leave my ex, he was cheating on me with my friend and he kicked us out.

"No, Tommy," I whisper, "I don't think I will be strong enough. So that just means you're going to have to wake up. I know you can. And I'll just have to deal with that when the time comes."


	9. Chapter 9

Having such an informal wedding leaves me with a thin gold band on my wedding finger and a hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach.

If I had family they would know that our hearts aren't in this, so that's the one good thing about them not being alive to see this.

Standing there in front of the judge, I couldn't keep the trembling out of my knees and Tommy tried as hard as he could to come off like he wasn't embarking on something he had no heart for, and my son couldn't have looked happier.

The absolute hardest part was not knowing which Tommy would be more comfortable with, hugging or kissing when we were pronounced husband and wife. I received neither. Tommy just gave the only smile he could muster and thanked the surprised looking judge.

I turned the stereo on, on the way home and asked Tommy which station he likes. "I usually only listen to the local news and local college stations," was his response and I don't know why I expected anything different. I turned off the stereo.

Tommy had to take the day off, told his boss that he and his girlfriend were getting married, and the boss didn't put up a fuss seeing as how the only days the Justice of the Peace was open were week days.

I almost wish he had taken off only half the day.

Now that we're home, Danny is in his room playing, Tommy is tinkering with the washer in the basement, and I'm up in my bedroom, the tears are pouring and I'm biting into my pillow to keep myself quiet.

I keep asking myself how I got myself into this. Why would I have to marry the Tinman with no heart? He means well by us, and he's not abusive, at least there's that. But Tommy was right, I wish that the reason I got married today was for love.

I know I could love Tommy if I let myself, I see the good in him, how protective he is of this town, of me, of Danny and he isn't even his biological son; and how fast he took to Stephen. And ever now and then, when I'm caught with my guard down, I'll catch a glimpse of Tommy's tanned muscular forearm, or just how green his eyes really are when his dark hair is almost black while it's wet after a shower, and the woman in me can't help but to notice how attractive Tommy really is; in a dark, mysterious, emotionally anorexic kind of way. However, I'm being extremely careful with my heart where he's concerned. Falling for a man that's incapable of falling for you back is just a recipe for disaster.

The sunlight gleams through the window curtain and makes my gold wedding band glare at me as if the sun wants to know just what the heck I was thinking marrying Tommy Doyle.

'I had to,' I whisper to myself, 'we had no other choice.'

Now it's evening, and I finally come down after splashing some water on my face and hoping Tommy doesn't notice my red eyes. I walk past him to the kitchen to start dinner and he grabs my elbow. "Sorry," he says dryly.

I drop my head to keep from seeing the fresh set of tears in my eyes. "Please let me go, Tommy."

Gentler than I've ever felt, he softly lets go of me and follows me into the kitchen. "We agreed that this was best for Danny and Stephen," he says defensively.

"It is what's best for them," I reply, grabbing the steaks I bought especially for today out of the fridge.

"I told you I was incapable of love."

"I know."

"But it's still killing you. Are you in love with me, Kara?" he asks.

"You know what, you can take that nonchalant way of asking me those kick in the gut questions and get out of the kitchen!"

Tommy's head snaps back like I just slapped him.

"And no, I'm not in love with you. I won't allow myself the possibility. The last thing I need is to love someone that won't love me back. I've been in that same situation before with Danny's father."

"Can't," Tommy says.

"What?" I ask.

"You said I won't fall in love with you, but that's not it, I can't fall in love with you, or anybody else."

I've unwrapped the steaks and I'm now pounding them with the meat tenderizer at this point. "And the fact that I just married you, means that I'm stuck in a loveless marriage. I will never have love. Don't you get that?"

"If you ever found someone who falls in love with you and you with he, I won't get in the way, by then we will have had Stephen for a while and parents who adopt get divorces all the time."

"What do you take me for, Tommy? I'm not the cheating type."

Tommy looks as if he truly never thought of that. "Are you religious?" he asks.

I laugh bitterly, "I was grown up in a Baptist church. I'm not particularly religious, but I do have my beliefs."

Tommy nods, accepting that. "Okay. Give it two years, by that time we will have fully adopted Stephen and it won't be a big deal of we divorce. Okay?"

I turn my back on him and lean against the kitchen sink unable to speak.

"I'm trying to make this easier for you, Kara."

"I don't think you can," I whisper.

I don't hear his footsteps so I nearly jump hearing his voice so close. "That's not it, is it? You're upset because you can't fix me. I warned you that it's not possible. Or maybe… no. Kara… you don't want just anybody to love you, do you? You want me to. Kara…"

I put up my hand to stop him. "Don't, Tommy. Please stop. I don't- I don't even love you like that. I barely know you."

"Twenty-eight days," Tommy says and it would be something sweet to know he keeps track of that, but I already know it's not for any other reason other than his mental calendar of everything that happens before, during, and after Halloween. "But I'm the first man you've been this close to since your ex. You want to forget about him, you want someone to fill his blank space. Well- I know we have something completely different than other married couples have, but I am the man in your life. I'm here, Kara, and I'm not leaving."

I turn around and see a very floundering Tommy, he's trying so hard with what he's got. I smile. "Well that's something."

It's almost a warm moment and Tommy can't stand it so he takes the meat cleaver from me. "Here, let me, you were going to put our dinner through another death."


	10. Chapter 10

He was right. Tommy was right about all of it.

It had been one month since we got married and we just left the Child Protective Services. With proof of Tommy's income, and us getting married they said that us being able to adopt Steven is looking better, but the actual cost of it would be far beyond our financial reach for many years. However, just as soon as the news let us down, they said we could possibly foster Steven.

"We can do that?" Tommy asked.

"Well you will have to fill out a lot of paper work. We will have to run a background check on you…" and that's when Tommy and I looked at each other, because we both knew of his mentally unstable background ever since the incident with Michael Myers when he was eight years old.

But, I let Tommy decide. We sat there for only one quiet moment before he took the fostering forms out of my hands that had been handed to me. We left and let them know we had some prior engagements and that we would fill out the paper work at home.

"I have to try," were the only words Tommy spoke of it, on the way home. I said nothing. I knew our chances didn't look too bright.

Tonight is a quiet night with stars a bright contrast for the perfect black night sky and I couldn't resist. I've never been on the roof of our house and it just feels right, on a blanket getting lost in the vastness of it.

"I thought I would find you out here."

I start at the sound of a voice and look around to find Tommy crawling out of the window onto the roof. He sits down beside me and it's nice for a long moment.

"Kara, I've been thinking, I don't know about fostering Stephen."

"What?" I ask turning to him, "Why?"

His sigh is long suffering, much like the sound of a man that works all day and the pressures of that and the domestic home life getting to him. "Because, if we foster, there's a chance that if we divorce like we plan to in a couple of years, that they won't let us keep Steven."

"Don't get all selfless on me now, Tommy."

"Kara, you'll never be able to have what you want if you sign up for this."

"You can say it, you know, love isn't a bad word."

Tommy turns his head away, uncomfortable. "Okay, you won't be able to find someone to love if you stay married to me just to foster Steven."

"Tommy?"

"What?"

"If by chance, I ever fell in love with you, how would you react?"

"But you're not in love with me," he says in form of a question.

"No. But I see so much good in you; the determination to make this whole domestic scene work, how good you are with Danny. You're not unattractive."

"And you're gorgeous, incredibly smart, maybe the strongest woman I've seen since Lourie Stode. But, just because you're all of those things, doesn't change who I am up here," he says pointing to his temple.

"So we're both attractive, smart, and have the ability to survive nightmares. You're incredibly messed up in the head and I'm learning how to help people that are messed up in the head. Doesn't that stir anything in you?"

"Kara, you're treading on dangerous ground."

"But why does it have to be dangerous?"

"Maybe I should put it like this. Every emotion, deep emotion I have, ties into one thing."

"Fury, hatred, revenge," I say, and he nods yes.

"So let's say, you saw a beautiful woman and something stirred in you and you became attracted to her, are you saying that you would want to hurt her?"

"It's happened before," he says, " not the actual hurting her part, but wanting to."

"Is that because it makes you feel weak?"

"It's more like… it makes me- you know what- forget…"

"Don't tell me to forget it, I'm your wife, I have a right to know. I let you live in the same house as my son. I have the right to know, Tommy."

Tommy shakes his head and laughs and unbelieving sound. "Okay, psych major. Here it is on a silver platter. Feeling attracted to something physically, all the way down to feeling things for someone like I want to be around them, I want to know them, getting attached to them, kicks open a door in my head that's been locked shut, and behind that door is all of the childish fears, vulnerability, all of the things that made me a victim. See, Kara? I know myself far better than you give me credit for. And yes, it pisses me off when someone threatens to even knock on that door in my head because I never, and I repeat never want to feel that weak again."

"I understand that, completely. Because when I think of someone knocking on the closed door in my heart, it immediately takes me back to Danny's father and all of the terrible thing my son and I endured. Because I don't ever want to be preyed upon the way David preyed on me, getting me to fall in love with him, and only turning into a terror behind closed doors."

Tommy thinks for a moment before he speaks. "I guess you do have a little experience surviving a madman."

"More than a little, and so does Danny."

Tommy's eyes go from understanding to furious in zero point two seconds and it sort of makes me want to go back inside. "Cursed men I understand, but normal people I don't get. So this David have a last name?"

I scoot a few more inches away than he already was, "Tommy, no! You can't!"

"I just want to be informed."

"You sit here and tell me that every emotion is tied into hatred and revenge and you want me to swallow that you just want to be informed?"

"Last name, Kara," he demands.

"No. Cursed men, yes, but you can't just go around hurting abusive, mentally ill men."

"You're protecting him?" he asks incredulously.

"Do you really expect anything different?" I ask.

Tommy looks away running his fingers through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut against the onslaught of emotions. "No," he breathes out, "I guess not."

"He's Danny's father. Even if I want him nowhere near him, what would I tell him if he grows up and wants to know where he is? I wouldn't be able to look him in the eye if you let all of your rage out on him and he doesn't live through it."

Tommy rubs a hand exhaustedly over his face. "Yeah, excuses. But I'll give you this… I won't go find him."

"Thank you, Tommy. That's all I ask."

"I hate these talks, Kara."

"I like them."

He laughs. "I know you do," but on a more serious note, "I don't want to hurt you."

"How come you have no problem being attached to children, fathering them, providing for them. Danny has become your little shadow, and you seem to like being a sudden father figure to him, and to Stephen for that short time. Why are those feelings any different from anything else?"

"Because, protecting is what I do. I remember what it is to feel unsafe as a child, and that comes easy for me to do."

"But don't you know that's love, Tommy?"

He chews on that for a moment. "I do."

"So what the difference? It's an emotion."

"Because it is different, Kara. I've never lost a child before, if I had it would be different. I know this may sound crazy to someone else, and the feelings weren't mutual, hell she didn't even know I felt that way, but the last person I was in love with was Lourie Strode."

 _Oh… wow… so we're getting somewhere_. "Okay, so… you don't want to feel that way ever again, because it brings about fear of losing that person, even though she just disappeared and is alive somewhere, she's gone. And because it happened once, and in your mind, if it happened once, it can happen again."

"Now that you've stripped me down naked, are you pleased with yourself?"

"Kind of," I admit and he smiles at my honesty.

"My brutal honesty seems to be wearing off on you," he says.

"Glad to have your approval," I say smiling back.

His smile turns sour. "You have no idea how much I grieved, and once I was done grieving, there was nothing left."

"I wish I could wipe your memory clean."

"No you don't. You still need a hero, everyone does."

"And who saves you, Tommy?" I ask, and he grabs the cross that's hanging at his chest and says nothing.

"Would it really be so bad if I loved you, Tommy?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because it would make me love you back. I don't want to be the next David in your life."

"Funny you say that. I was just wishing that I were Lourie Strode. The only woman the town's hero ever loved."

"That's sounds like a bad summary to a b-rated film," he says.

"I think I'm being way too honest tonight," I finally realize.

"Yes, Kara, you are."

"Tommy?"

"Yeah?"

"If I ever do, you know, cause you to unleash your anger, will you make me a promise?"

"What's that?"

"If you have to take it out on someone, take it out on me, and not Danny."

Tommy's face falls at the thought. "I hate that I would ever have to make such a promise, Kara. But I promise. I will do everything in my power never to hurt either of you, especially Danny."

"Okay. Feel like calling it a night?"

"I think I will stay out here a bit longer," he says, "I need to recover from this last therapy session."

I roll my eyes. "Shut up. And go to bed soon. You look exhausted and work comes early in the morning."

"Yeah –yeah, go to bed," he replies and I slip back into the house.


	11. Chapter 11

Tommy's room is somewhere I seldom go, and never Danny.

Tommy's decorated it much like the same way he had his room at Ms. Blankenship's house. The only difference is, is that his telescope is in his closet. I would lie to Tommy if he asked, but when I come in here to put up Tommy's clean clothes and gather the hamper of the dirty ones, there's something I've been looking for.

The mask.

Today I've found it.

With Tommy's clean clothes put up and the hamper of dirty clothes at my feet on the floor I hold the white mask in my hands. I found it not in one of his drawers where he kept it in the house next door, but behind the dresser.

Standing in front of the mirror, my hands are shaking. I don't know why, it's just some rubber and fake hair. But there's something about it, something so very… Tommy about it. I feel guilty for thinking such a thing, but the man, much like this mask is so expressionless. Yes, I've seen Tommy with expressions but they have to be coaxed out of him. This mask though, it's like it holds some kind of power over those who get within reach of it. But I want to understand so badly and I've been thinking that maybe, just maybe this will let me in on a little of what Tommy gets out of wearing it.

Bringing the mask up slowly, I finally decide to just do it and do it quick before I can talk myself out of it.

The mask is on.

I look up slowly into the mirror and what I see is absolutely startling. My heart feels like it's going to pound out of my chest. I'm sweating and it's hard to breathe. _Calm down, Kara, calm down._

I take a deep breath in and exhale slowly. Studying the mask on me, as I look at it from a critical point of view, seems kind of silly on my small slender shoulders. The eyes I try avoiding but it just simply can't be helped. There's something too dark about the eyes in contrast to this mask.

I try to tap into how it's effecting my emotions and so far all I can come up with is, power. The power to intimidate radiates because I can hide my emotions behind it. Does Michael have emotions behind it? The only emotions that I could see in Tommy's eyes when he wore the mask in front of me, was rage.

Do I feel rage right now?

I-I think I do, but for me it's a slow stir of it, hidden just beneath the surface. I feel like I can do anything to anyone, and all would be well because behind this mask I am hidden; almost as if it wouldn't be real if I did.

I'm a little let down. I don't honestly think that I can or would do anything, not that I would want to, but I'm still so in touch with myself that this mask doesn't have the kind of power over me that it does with Michael, or Tommy for that matter.

Right now I feel kind of strange like- I'm getting the sense that-, "Tommy!"

I whip around, the mask still on, and standing behind me is an angry Tommy. He grins, a nasty sadistic grin and I know he's angry.

He's not moving.

I rip the mask off and throw it, not really caring which way it lands and I rush to him, placing a hand on his cheek and all of this is wrong, all wrong. On instinct I rushed to comfort him, and I realize my mistake, but before I take my hand away, I realize that he's not pushing me away, not even a wince comes across his face. He's staring unblinkingly at the mirror and he's not responding.

"Oh no, Tommy? Tommy! Tommy, I'm sorry, please look at me!"

His head tilts to the side but still nothing. I wrap my arms around him and his arms stay limp at his sides.

Finally he whispers into my hair just barely audibly enough to hear him, "Get out, Kara." Then raising his voice, he says, "Get Danny and get out. Give me no less than one hour. GO!"

I back away from him and run out of the room. "Danny! Danny!" I rush to his room.

"What's wrong, Mommy?"

I try to put up as calm as a façade that I can. "Nothing sweetie, we just need to go to town for a couple of hours, okay?"

"Is Tommy, okay?"

"Yes, baby, he just needs some peace and quiet for a little while, okay? Put on your shoes, come on, hurry!" I say looking out his door and down the hallway to Tommy's to make sure he's not coming.

Taking Danny by the hand, we get down the steps as carefully as we can in such a hurry and I grab my purse and keys near the door and we make it to the car in record time. I peel out and lead us away from there.

I drive Danny and myself into town and think of what we can do that I can afford. When I find my voice again I ask him, "How does ice cream at the park sound?"

"Yeah! Can I get double chocolate scoops?!"

I smile weakly. "Yes, honey, we can."

Danny eats his ice cream so ravenously that I wonder how he doesn't get brain freeze and it's the happiest I've seen him in a while. I'm going to have to do this with my son more often.

I really don't have the stomach to eat my one scoop so when Danny heads to the monkey bars I trash it.

Sitting back on the bench I watch my son, he's smiling, so it does help to calm me down a bit. However, I can't help wondering what Tommy's doing back at the house. Is he trashing his room, breaking things, burning down the house maybe? The absolute worst thing I can imagine is him hurting himself. Did I cause some kind of breakdown? Because if I did, I want to be there for that. He shouldn't be alone. But the look in his eyes was something I knew just wasn't quite himself. Something in my subconscious knew to obey his orders and grab my son and get out of there as fast as we could.

What have I done?

The more I look at my watch the slower the time goes by, so to take my mind off of it the best I can, I push Danny in his swing. "Higher, Mommy! Higher!"

"If I push you any higher, Danny, the birds are going to fly away with you," I say, which gets a giggle out of him. It's a sweet sound to a mother's ears.

After I've given Tommy two hours, because it's all I can do to stay away this long, Danny and I are headed back home.

"Mommy?"

"Yes, honey."

"I'm glad you married Tommy. I finally have a daddy now."

Now, Tommy and I haven't had a talk about what we would do if Danny started to think of him as his father, and hearing my son say this makes my heart ache, both with gladness and dread. Am I doing the right thing? Have I done the right thing by letting Tommy into our lives, into Danny's life?

"The other kids at school are talking about him."

I take a quick glance at my son before turning back to the road. "About what kind of things, honey?" I ask, but I fear I already know.

"That he's crazy. Because the boogeyman tried to hurt him. But you know what I told them?"

"What, honey?"

"I told them that he saved me and my mom from the boogeyman and that he's the strongest man in the world."

Tears of joy threaten to spill from my eyes, but I blink them back so Danny doesn't misunderstand.

"That's wonderful, Danny. You just keep telling them all of the good things about Tommy and maybe one day they will feel the same way you do," I tell him, and it is, so wonderful. Maybe it isn't crazy that I married the man that I owe my life to.

"Oh, they already DO. They want to meet him! They tell the rest of the kids in class about how Tommy beat the boogeyman. They call him Batman."

I laugh and it feels like such a relief to do so. "Well, don't tell them any different."

Danny smiles at me. "I won't. Promise."

"Good boy."

Back at the house, as we walk up to the front door, I wait a few moments to see if I can hear anything banging around inside the house and all is completely quiet.

Inside of the house we see no sign of Tommy. "Honey, why don't you go up to your room and play."

"Okay, Mommy, Tommy just bought me a new comic book!"

As soon as Danny's safely in his room, I knock on Tommy's bedroom door, more fearful than I thought I could be. "Tommy?"

No reply.

"Tommy, are you in there? I'm coming in."

Sucking in a deep breath, I slowly open the door.

Seeing is believing, but I can't believe my eyes.

Tommy's sitting on the floor, leaned back against his bed, holding a cigarette in a shaking hand and tears are streaming down his face. That's the first thing I notice. The second thing is his room. He's trashed it.

"Don't come any closer," he says without turning to me.

"I think you've done all the damage you're going to do, Tommy. But did the bedroom really deserve it?" I ask, it's a dumb joke, I know.

I step into his room. "I know you're not going to hurt me, Tommy. I know that in your world, humans hurt other humans, but it doesn't mean you're going to hurt anyone, especially not me, and more than that, Danny."

"That must be why you left the house with Danny so quick," he says sarcastically, his voice sounding like he ate a meal of sandpaper.

"I left the house, because I trust you. You told me what to do and I listened," I say, risking sitting down on the floor a few feet in front of him.

"You mean you obeyed me. Your ex must have taught you well."

It's a cheap shot, and I know he's just trying to take the focus off of me catching him crying but it hurts enough to make me wince. "Who is the psych major here?"

"Why did you do it, Kara? Why did you put on that mask?"

"I had to see for myself," I whisper.

"See why Tommy is so crazy? See why Tommy is so much like the boogeyman himself?" he asks rhetorically.

"No. I wanted to see what would happen to me if I put it on. _Me_ , Tommy. You shouldn't be afraid of what I find out about you anyway."

"I have every reason to be afraid of what you find out about me," he says angrily, rising up from his slouch.

"I could say the same, Tommy. If only I could let you look inside of my head, you'd know you're not much different from everyone else."

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that."

"Okay, let's start with facts. And I promise to be real. My ex starved me because he said I was fat, kept locks on the kitchen cabinets and the refrigerator. That's why I'm so thin. I kept taking my ex back, even after he cracked my ribs raping me against the kitchen chair in front of his friends and then letting them have a crack at me. I took him back after he put me in the emergency room, six times; once with the ribs, an extreme concussion, another for a fractured wrist, another for a back injury, and twice of starvation. And even worse than that, I took him back after he started hurting Danny. It took him having to break Danny's arm for me to leave him. Does that sound like a well adjusted human being to you? Does that sound like a good mother to you?"

Tommy just stares at me and sucks on his cigarette for a long moment. "You're not helping me keep my promise of not hunting down your ex. Not one bit," he says so coldly it sends shivers down my spine.

Tommy smiles a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "That explains why you ended up with me. You have a type."

"Oh no you don't. Don't you dare put yourself into the same category as that monster David. You're nothing like him, Tommy."

Tommy leans forward, grinning in a certain self-awareness. "Oh but I am, Kara."

"Do you want to hurt me, Tommy?"

He leans back with a plop. "Never. But it happens. It could happen to anyone. All it takes is one angry moment and bam. Just like that. Why do you think I told you to leave?"

"Do you know how I know you won't hurt me, Tommy?"

"Not really."

"Well that's just tough. I know you won't hurt Danny or me because you're too scared that you will. You're so careful that when you felt yourself get angry, you didn't even want us in the same house with you. If you ask me, it makes you one of the safest guys to be around."

"Yeah, until I'm not."

"I'm not Lourie, Tommy. And you're not Michael."

"Sometimes it feels like it," he admits. "I mean, here you are, beautiful, smart, genuinely sweet, care about children more than yourself. And here I am. To deal with the boogeyman, I've tried to get inside of his head. Who does that?"

"Obviously Batman," I mumble.

"What?"

I shake my head. "If you only knew… Danny called you a hero today. He said since you saved him and me that his friends think you're Batman," I tell him, leaving the part out about him calling him his daddy.

Tommy's eyes grow soft and he shakes his head looking down at his boots.

"Don't argue, Tommy. Danny and I, we both feel that way about you. And no amount of your fears of what a man can turn into, can change that. You're the best thing that's ever happened to us."

"I really wish you wouldn't say things like that," he mumbles into his arm.

"I can't help it. I care about you and so does Danny. I owe you everything for saving my son. I owe you everything for saving me. And there's no one and I repeat no one, I feel safer with when I know a boogeyman is out there. It wasn't some other guy that helped us live that night. It was you, Tommy. You and that man that's hanging on the cross around your neck. Your strength, and your faith got us through it."

"I don't know whether you're a blessing or a curse, Kara. But, even after just a short amount of time, I think I might go crazy if you and Danny weren't around to keep me sane."

"The feeling is mutual," I tell him smiling warmly. "I'm so sorry I snooped and found the mask, and even more sorry that I tried it on. It must have scared the mess out of you."

"In more ways than one, Kara. In more ways than one. Seeing someone that's not me, standing in the same room with me wearing it, it sent my entire being into attack mode. Just- promise me, promise me you'll never put it on again," he says squeezing his eyes shut.

"I promise. Do you forgive me?"

He looks up incredulously. "I'm the one that nearly attacked you and you're asking me for forgiveness?"

"How about we forgive each other?"

"There's nothing to forgive you for. But whatever."

His act of nonchalance makes me grin. "It's settled then, all is forgiven, and now I must wash your dirty underwear," I say standing up and picking up the clothes that fell over out of the kicked over laundry basket. When I'm done and I pick up the hamper and I feel a hand grab my elbow.

"Kara," he whispers.

"What is it, Tommy? What do you need?" I ask gently.

"I- I don't really know," he says in confusion.

I put the hamper back down and turn around and gently wrap my arms around the man. And this time, for the first time, with all of his strength Tommy actually hugs me back.


	12. Chapter 12

I've been thinking. It always gets me into trouble. But I have been.

I think from the very first time I spent time with Tommy, he's been breaking down little by little. Just very, very, subtly, and I don't even think he realizes it. I can see the subtle ways he's softening.

I smell something coming from the kitchen and when I make my way inside I see Tommy stirring what looks to be scrambled eggs on the stove.

"What are you doing?" I ask halfway yawning.

"Sit down," he demands and nods to the kitchen table.

I plop down into the chair tiredly and wait for an explanation.

"Your ex was an idiot. I haven't seen you eat a whole plate of food since I've been here and you're going to start eating. You need to take care of yourself and you definitely need to gain some wait."

This confirms what I say to Tommy when I point out all of his good qualities. It also confirms my most recent theory, that he's softening.

"You don't have to do this, Tommy."

"That's where you're wrong," he says setting down a plate of pancakes and eggs with a side of bacon, "now eat."

I have to admit that the meal looks scrumptious. So I pick up my fork and start sampling each of what he made and everything, and much like everything that eventually pours out of Tommy, it's good. I'm actually moaning between bits and he's chuckling, the jerk.

"So, he cooks too. Very un-Michael like," I joke, because obviously my filter doesn't work in the mornings.

"Shut up and eat," he says.

He sits down with his own plate and I ask, "Where's Danny?"

"I already fed him. He's outside shooting hoops."

"We don't have a net up."

"We do now," he says and that's all he gives.

I smile and shake my head. He's obviously apologizing for yesterday in his own way. "You know, Tommy, I've been thinking."

He pinches the bridge of his nose while chewing a bite of bacon. "Not again with the thinking."

I ignore him. "You know how you said that I was probably one of those children that picked up and brought home every stray animal I found? And that I was that way with my past exes too?"

Tommy nods and goes back to eating. "What of it?"

"Well, you're right. I'm cursed to see the good in people, and I don't give up on them easily, as you can see by my recent relationship with David. So, I think I'm perfect for you."

Tommy swallows, "There's ways to break curses, you know."

I laugh, "Now you shut up. You can't deny that someone like me would be perfect as a wife for you."

Tommy looks at me seriously, thinking over what I'm saying. "The way I think about it, Kara, is you are the perfect prey for people like me. It's not fair that women like you end up with men like me. What's perfect for you is someone who has no violent tendencies, nor has anger issues."

"You just made me a perfect breakfast. The only thing missing was a Kiss The Cook apron," I say giggling.

"You're not going to let this be easy are you? You have a mission to break down everything I know about myself, and to make me see myself in a different light. But here's the question, Kara… are you doing it because you're afraid that if I stay the same as I have been, that I will hurt you or Danny?"

I have to force my chewed bite down my throat. "The only person afraid of that, Tommy, is you."

"I think you're the most naïve woman I've ever met."

"You like me, Tommy. Admit it."

"I wish I didn't. You might not be here ten months from now."

"And neither might you be. Anyone's time could be up at any minute."

"I refuse to fall in love with you, Kara," he says getting right down to business.

"Why?"

"Because you saw what happened with me after losing Lourie. If I allowed myself to get totally wrapped up inside of you and you with me, then if I lost you, I don't know if there would be anything of me left."

I'm honestly blown away, unable to respond. It's the most genuine and heartfelt thing I've ever heard.

"The feeling's mutual, you stubborn, stubborn man."

"So let's save ourselves the heartache," he says.

I sigh.

"You don't love me, Kara."

"You keep saying that."

"Don't tell me that you're doing it again to yourself; getting yourself all wrapped up in a lost cause."

"You're anything but a lost cause. You're my husband, that finds the old basketball net in the basement and puts it up for my son somewhere so he can play. You're my husband that allows me to gain weight. You're my husband that wants nothing more than to protect my son and me. So stop being so mellow-dramatic, because whether you like it or not, my son loves you already, and because of that, I can't help but to love you."

"But not in a romantic way, right?" he asks, making sure.

"Let me make you a promise. I promise to love you, but not to fall in love with you until you fall in love with me. And if that never happens, then so be it. You're still the best husband I could ask for."

"When did this husband and wife thing start mattering to you? I thought it was just an arrangement to get back Steven."

"Because, Tommy, look at the food on this plate, you're taking care of us like a real husband would. It's already in writing, so why not let it matter?"

"You could possibly be the absolute best or worst thing that's ever happened to me, Kara."

I lay my hand on top of his and make him look at me. "Right back at ya, hubby," I say with a wink and all of a sudden my son comes barging in.

"Daddy, Daddy, I made a three pointer, just like you showed me! It was awesome!" my son exclaims and jumps in Tommy's lap.

Tommy looks startled and uncomfortable and looks at me with wonderment in his eyes, and he and I are both wondering when he became Daddy instead of just Tommy.

Tommy looks down at Danny and says, "That's great, buddy. By the time you're at your full height, you'll be ready for the NBA."

Danny laughs and gets off of Tommy's lap and comes to steal a piece of bacon from my plate. Then he leaves just as quickly as he came, back to the backyard to shoot some more hoops more than likely.

Tommy looks at me, his face a little pink, embarrassed by the moment. "He called me-"

"Daddy, yes, I heard," I say smiling and laughing a little all in good humor.

"When did that happen?" he asks incredulously.

"I think it happened the moment you met him. But like you, he's just now coming around to show you how crazy he is about you. You love my son, I can see it."

"So it's okay with you that he calls me Daddy?" he asks, not even denying that he loves my child. He does have a heart.

"If it's okay with you, it's okay with me," I answer.

"I think… I don't know what I think, Kara."

"Okay," I say softly, "let me put it like this… would you rather him call his father, Daddy, or would you rather him call you Daddy?"

Tommy doesn't even have to think first. "Me."

"So it's settled then. Pass the syrup."

"Did I just become an actual husband, and father, all in the same day?"

"I think you did, Daddy," I tell him with another wink and go back to eating my pancakes.

Tommy drops his head into his hands. "There's too many feelings in this house."

I rub his arm a little, "Don't worry, you get used to it. Want to hug it out?" I ask teasing.

"You're a terrible person," he groans.

"I know," I chirp and throw a piece of bacon at his head; which he looks down at and picks up and eats.

Now that we're finished eating I follow him to the door to make sure he has his wallet and keys, and most importantly, his hard hat.

"Stop nagging me woman. I took care of myself this long, I think I can handle it."

"Yeah, yeah, you like it," I tease, because I've learned it's fun teasing Tommy.

"Shut up," he says sulkily. Then as he's about to open the door, he turns around to me and says, "I want to try something. It's just an experiment. But I need to see."

"What's that?" I ask.

"Don't freak out. I'm not going to hurt you, okay?"

"Okay?' I say skeptically.

He takes a deep breath in, then lets it out, then nods saying to himself, "Okay."

Tommy steps toward me and lifts his arms and all of a sudden I'm surrounded by him, and he's enveloping me in an actual hug; one that is brought on by simple curiosity of human contact, and not brought on by the pain in one of us.

Tommy's arms, to my surprise are wrapped tightly all the way around me and his hands are holding my sides. And even more of a surprise is his nose is turned toward my hair and he's inhaling deeply, as if he's trying to get my scent.

My arms are around his neck, and his scent of aftershave with his own scent is intoxicating. I've never been allowed to be this close for so long.

As if I hadn't been surprised enough this morning, in the middle of the hug, he squeezes even tighter, then gently lets me go.

I force my eyes back open and he's looking down, scratching the back of his neck.

"Was that really so bad for you, Tommy?" I ask.

"Did it scare you?" he asks, still not making eye contact.

Did it scare me? I felt like I was petting a wild animal, trying not to make any sudden movements for fear I would spook him.

"Of course not, Tommy," I breath out.

He nods his head toward the floor then says, "Then it wasn't so bad." And with that he takes off out the door without looking back, leaving me feeling a mixture of things. For one I feel like I'm floating. Yet, an overwhelming sadness permeates my being, because this man actually thinks that people, everyone really, is afraid of him. More than that, he's afraid of himself.


End file.
